Home Truths
by aficionada-de-libros
Summary: After Celebrían sails, the Imladris/Lothlórien family are confronted with some home truths about the recent events ... and about themselves. – An Elrond-centred story featuring Celeborn, Glorfindel, Erestor, and Galadriel, with minor appearances by Haldir, the twins, and Arwen.
1. Teaser Drabble

**Home Truths**

Lady Celebrían kissed her daughter, hugged the twins, and said a tearful farewell to her parents. At last, she stood in front of her husband. She gave him a long look, boring her eyes into his relentlessly. In the end she whispered, in so low a voice that only Elrond could hear: "Don't you dare follow me!"

Then she stepped onto the ship and was gone, never once looking back.


	2. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Congratulations, you have made it past the teaser drabble! Welcome to my newest story.**_

 _ **This is a complete one-off. I think. Usually I don't write in this fandom, but I needed a different place to vent, and the LOTR 'verse and characters turned out to be the perfect victims. Partially a product of my recent LOTR/Hobbit binge watching, so if you think Elrond, think HW etc. The story itself is centred around Celebrían's sailing, that means: long before LOTR/Hobbit. Most of all, though, this is AU, head canon, and bound to be OOC in places. Feel free to not like my take on things and tell me so, but please stay civil.**_

 _ **Disclaimers: I'm neither Tolkien nor Jackson, so I own nothing but the random stuff that keeps running through my brain. Just playing in their sandbox.**_

 _ **Warnings: None, really, other than that this is – as previously mentioned – AU, head canon, and some OOC. Shameless angsty H/C fest. The rating is due to the underlying story of Celebrían's fate.**_

 **Chapter 1**

Lord Celeborn watched his daughter's interaction with her family with a mixture of concern, disconcertment, and confusion. Something was wrong ... something other than the obvious. In the year that had passed since that terrible attack, she had become a stranger to him. He loved his daughter dearly and wished for nothing more than to be able to help her, but every time he saw her – and in the last year he had visited her in Imladris more often than in the past century –, the darkness within her soul and spirit seemed to have grown. What at first had seemed like severe despondency, such as one might have expected after the ordeal she had been through, had steadily progressed into an irritated sort of apathy. It troubled him deeply.

When she finally announced that she was going to sail, it had almost come as a relief.

Holding her in his arms one last time this side of the sea, he felt her tears soak through his robes and could not help but remember all the times he had held her like this throughout her life. Oh, for the time when his embrace had been enough to soothe her fears and pain and sadness! Now he could only hold her close for but a few more brief moments: a memory and a promise. " _Namárië_ , my dear child," he whispered, tears in his own voice. "May you find swift healing in the Undying Lands."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

When even the last shade of the ship had disappeared from sight, all but two of the small group mounted their horses and set out on the way back to Imladris. Lord Celeborn lingered for a while longer, loath to leave his son-in-law standing there on the landing, looking so very lost and heartbroken. He feared for Elrond, even more so now that he had seen the cold good-bye his daughter had given her husband. Only when faithful Glorfindel promised him that he would not leave his lord out of his sight did Lord Celeborn follow the rest of the party.

Riding swiftly, he caught up with them after about two hours and slowed his horse to walk alongside Lady Galadriel's. _What took you so long?,_ he heard his wife's voice in his head.

 _I'm worried about Elrond_ , he answered. _He is not well._

 _Of course he is not well. His wife has just sailed. It will be a long time until he will adjust to the new state of things ... but hope will win out in the end._

 _Hope?_ Celeborn echoed. _I fear there is no hope he can see at this moment._

 _They will be reunited when he sails. He knows this. It will help him overcome his grief._

Lady Galadriel's words were probably meant to be of comfort and reassurance, but her dismissive tone made them just the opposite.

 _Have you not seen their farewell? Have you not seen the way Celebrían hardly looked at him, and never even touched him in parting? Have you not read the words from her lips?_ LordCeleborn started to get angry as he recalled the heartrending scene. _Do not tell me you did not see the indifference in her eyes. You are a reader of minds, my dear – do you mean to say you did not read our daughter's?_

Galadriel's head snapped around and, seeing the look in his eyes, she reined in her horse. A strange expression crossed her fair face. _She closed her mind to me_ , the Lady of Light admitted reluctantly. _I could not reach her. But surely you understand that after all she has been through, it would be difficult for her ..._

Celeborn stopped as well, raising a hand and effectively silencing Galadriel. "Let us not discuss this now," he said so quietly that he could not be overheard by their grandchildren. "But I truly fear for Elrond. He looked to be on the brink of fading. I would do what I can to prevent that."

A slight incline of her head was all the consent he needed from his wife. "You will ride back to him," she stated.

"I will. Take the children to Imladris. We will follow as soon as we can, but do not wait for us. And ..." He reached over to take Galadriel's hand and added his last words only as a thought. _I know you do not mean ill, but until you are able to extend true compassion and comfort to Elrond, please do not try to touch his mind. I fear he could not bear it._

The Lady of Light actually lowered her eyes in something akin to shame and gave a small nod. _I promise. Please do not think ill of me, my love. I fear the grief for our daughter has clouded my mind as well._

Celeborn leant over and placed a tender kiss to his wife's forehead. "I thank you. Ride now, and be safe. I will see you as soon as I can."

Then he rode up to Haldir and the captain of the four Imladris guards who had accompanied the small group. "Lady Galadriel, the Lords Elladan and Elrohir, and Lady Arwen will return to Imladris right away. I will follow later with Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel. Take them by the safest route. I trust you to keep them from harm," he said, and although his words were phrased as an order, they sounded more like a heartfelt plea.

"Do not worry, my lord. We will see it done," replied the captain of the Imladris guard and immediately urged his horse forward to relay the orders. Haldir and Celeborn clasped arms before Haldir grasped his lord's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I shall sooner die than let any harm come to them," the valiant warrior promised.

A pained look crossed Celeborn's face. "I would rather I did not lose another one I hold dear," he said quietly, drawing Haldir into a brief embrace.

"If I may ..."

"Yes?"

"Please assure Lord Elrond of my deepest compassion," Haldir said, "until such a time that I will be able to do so myself."

"I gladly shall," Celeborn replied with a small, warm smile. Extending his arm in farewell, he then waited until the small group of riders was around the next bend in the road before he spurred his horse into a gallop and urgently made his way back towards the Grey Havens.


	3. Chapter 2

_**A/N: A happy thank you goes out to the first reviewer, Oleanne, and my first favouriter, wswpub. I'm glad you like the start of my little story! It is almost completely written and will have eight chapters, teaser chapter not included.**_

 _ **A word on the Elvish expressions: Although a translator by profession, I am certainly not one for Sindarin or Quenya. As I myself do not like linguistic inaccuracies, but needed some Elvish for stylistic reasons, I tried to keep it to a minimum. Thanks to the wonderful online dictionaries and grammar commentaries, I hope that what little I used will not be too horrible.**_

 _ **Disclaimers: see chapter 1.**_

 **Chapter 2**

Lord Celeborn had seen many a frightening sight in his long life, but only very few of them he remembered to have been as frightening as the one that greeted him on the side of the road. Having his horse all but skid to a halt, he jumped off and hurried towards the two figures by the wayside.

Elrond was on his knees next to his horse, bent over in obvious pain, deathly pale and desperately struggling to draw a full breath. Next to him, bracing his friend the best he could and looking more scared than he had in a _very_ long time, was Glorfindel. When Celeborn approached, Glorfindel raised frightened eyes and a tear-stained face to the ancient elf lord. "He suddenly collapsed. I just barely caught him so he wouldn't fall off his horse. He can hardly breathe!" the great warrior explained in a frenzied rush.

Lord Celeborn crouched down in front of his son-in-law and put a gentle hand over the fist that Elrond was pressing against his chest. "Tell me what hurts, _ion-nín_ ," he asked in a calm voice, even though he was feeling anything but calm.

"Heart," Elrond wheezed, squeezing his eyes firmly shut against the agonising pain.

Celeborn opened his mouth to say, "I know," but stopped in mid-breath. He was no healer, but he had gathered a lot of knowledge in his long life. Raising his other hand to Elrond's face, he felt the cold and clammy skin and realised that the Peredhel had not spoken in a figurative sense.

" _Ai ion-nín!_ " he sighed, gently pushing a few sweat-soaked strands of hair from Elrond's face. "Let us get you off the ground and back to the Grey Havens to find a healer."

"No," Elrond wheezed, shaking his head slightly. "I want ... to go home."

"Elrond, please! You need help! Let us take you to a healer," Glorfindel pleaded.

Again the elf lord shook his head. "Nothing ... they can do."

Celeborn and Glorfindel looked at each other, both deeply troubled at finding their worst fears confirmed. Fresh tears tumbled out of Glorfindel's bright eyes and he gripped his friend's shoulders even more tightly. "Do not say that," he whispered. "Do not give in, I beg of you!"

Ignoring the Balrog Slayer, Elrond forced his eyes open to look at his father-in-law. "The children?" he gasped.

"They are safely on their way to Imladris with their grandmother. Haldir and the guards are taking them there. Do not worry about them for the moment." Celeborn looked up at an exceedingly upset Glorfindel. "Please find us a place to make camp for a few hours. I will stay with Lord Elrond in the meantime. We will have food and rest while we consider our next steps."

Glorfindel quickly regained his composure at the calm command and nodded. Leaning forward once more to squeeze Elrond's shoulders, he whispered in his ear: "Don't die on me while I'm gone, _gwador_!"

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

As soon as Glorfindel was gone, Elrond slumped forward, sagging bonelessly against his father-in-law. Celeborn caught him as if he had only been waiting for his collapse, bracing him with his body and gently lowering both of them fully to the ground. A low whistle brought his horse to his side, and a few quiet words had the proud stallion lie down right beside them so as to shelter the two elves with his body. The silver-haired elf lord carefully positioned himself and the precious burden in his arms against the faithful animal, thankful that it would provide his son-in-law with some additional much-needed warmth. Then he drew his cloak around both of them, creating a safe space of sorts.

He was faintly relieved to feel Elrond practically melt into the warm, calm bubble – and unspeakably worried about the state his son-in-law was in. Thin and pale, trembling with cold and pain, struggling to breathe, and worst of all, utterly hopeless. In his mind, Lord Celeborn corrected the words he had said to his wife earlier. Elrond was not on the brink of fading: he was only half a step away from stumbling over the edge.

Gripped by a sudden burst of fear, the ancient elf lord drew the younger one closer against himself, one hand resting over the skittering heart of the fading half-elf and his other hand pulling the dark head more comfortably against his shoulder with gentle pressure before cupping it around the base of his neck, willing some warmth into the icy skin.

"Thank you," Elrond whispered between wheezing breaths. "For coming back."

"I could not leave you alone after all of this," Celeborn replied. "You have had to carry too heavy a burden for far too long. I have been remiss in not coming to your aid earlier, but I would do what I can to help you now, if only you will allow me to."

Elrond closed shaking fingers around his father-in-law's wrist where it rested against his chest, and held on as if it could keep him from drifting further away. "Your being here ... is more than I could ask for," he breathed. His grasp tightened, although the muscles in his arm trembled with the effort. "I am scared, _adar_."

Celeborn's heart went out to his beloved son-in-law, and he bent his head to press a fatherly kiss to his forehead. "You are not alone," he whispered in a tear-strangled voice, turning his wrist and wrapping his fingers around Elrond's. "I know you are weary and in great pain, both in mind and in body. I feel cruel to ask this from you, but please do not give in now. I know you cannot see it at this moment, and I know it does not feel like it, but the worst is already behind you. Now comes a time of grief and mourning, and with it healing. It will be painful and hard, but no more painful and no harder than the past year. Of this I am sure."

Tears trickled down Elrond's face. These were not tears of a healing grief but tears of pain and exhaustion, as Celeborn well knew. But they were an encouraging sign nonetheless – a sign that his words had reached the half-elf's weary soul. They were a sign of surrender, at a point where he had no strength left to fight. Stripped down to the bare essentials of his being, he was finally ready to lay down his arms.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

When Glorfindel returned and saw Celeborn on the ground huddled against the horse, a deathly pale Elrond in his arms and tear tracks on his face, he feared for a moment that the worst had happened. He approached slowly, hesitatingly, making just enough noise to announce his return. Finally he crouched down in front of the two elf lords. "Celeborn _hîr-nín_ ," he whispered fearfully.

The silver-haired elf looked up, not even bothering to hide his tears. "Have you found a place to make camp?" he asked quietly but in a strong voice.

"Aye, _hîr-nín_. There is a small cave prepared about two hundred paces from here. It is well-hidden and will be safe enough to spend a night," Glorfindel reported, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. They would not set up camp if Elrond had passed away.

"You did well to plan ahead. Lord Elrond will need complete rest today and through the night if he is to withstand the ride back to Imladris," Celeborn agreed.

" _Hîr-nín_ ..." Glorfindel hesitated, his eyes lingering on the pain-creased face of his friend. "We cannot ride to the cave. The way is too uneven."

The silver-haired elf lord questioningly raised an eyebrow, reminding Glorfindel so much of Elrond that he did not know whether to laugh or to cry. "So?"

Now the Balrog Slayer indeed smiled. Acting upon an unspoken request, he briefly swapped places with Celeborn so the elf lord could get up. He unclasped his own cloak and wrapped it around Elrond on top of Celeborn's, then carefully transferred his friend into the elf lord's waiting arms. It was unsettling to see Elrond's eyes closed, but he recognised it as a sign of exhaustion and a way to preserve precious energy. With hands as gentle as those of a mother, the mighty warrior settled his friend's head against the elf lord's shoulder, letting his fingers linger briefly on the dark hair.

Finally, knowing that their horses would follow them, they set out to walk the short distance to the cave.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

While Glorfindel unloaded their belongings and provisions, looked after the horses, and started a fire, Lord Celeborn tried his best to make his ailing son-in-law as comfortable as possible. Spreading out one of their bedrolls, he settled Elrond in a half-prone position against the cave wall – partly because he could not bear to see other elf lord pale and ill on the ground; it looked too much like dying. The other reason was something he remembered from caring for wounded soldiers in battles. If they had sustained wounds to the chest, they always seemed to find it easier to breathe when placed in a somewhat upright position. Celeborn had noticed that the same thing seemed to be true for Elrond; so he just tucked their cloaks and blankets around the too-thin body for softness and warmth.

Satisfied that his son-in-law was as comfortable as he could be under these circumstances, he proceeded to coax some water into him. When Elrond turned an even more sickly shade of grey at the mere mention of food, however, he realised he needed an alternative idea for feeding him. The Peredhel was in dire need of nourishment, and soon.

"You do not have any honey with you by any chance, Glorfindel?" he asked when the Golden Warrior ducked back into the cave.

To his credit, Glorfindel never missed a beat at the somewhat abrupt request.

"No, I'm sorry, I don't. I might have something equally good, though." He reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a small metal container. "Caramels," he explained. "If we stir a few of these into a cup of tea, it might do the trick."

Lord Celeborn smiled. "That is brilliant. Thank you."

Glorfindel handed the candy box over and smiled back, until his eyes fell on Elrond. Seeing that his friend was resting, but not asleep, he just sighed and went back outside. The talking would have to wait.

Dismayed, Lord Celeborn pressed his lips into a thin line. Obviously there was a lot more going on in Imladris than what he had observed during his visits over the past year. "What has happened to you, _ion-nín_?" he whispered, placing a tender hand on the side of the half-elf's head. With his thumb he traced soothing lines along the younger elf's eyebrow, while his other hand rested over Elrond's erratically beating heart.

He had not actually expected any reaction, so he was surprised to feel Elrond lean into his touch and see him open his eyes halfway. Like before, Elrond grasped Celeborn's wrist, squeezing it weakly. "Glorfindel ... or Erestor ... can tell you ... if you really want to know," he said on short bursts of breath.

"Actually, I would prefer to hear it from you ... someday, when you are strong enough. For now, you just rest and save your strength. Let us take care of you for a change."

Elrond's eyes filled with tears and he squeezed his father-in-law's wrist more tightly. "You just ... lost your daughter ... who ... takes care of you?"

Celeborn gave him a long look. Astutely as ever, Elrond had not simply assumed that his parents-in-law would automatically take care of each other. It spoke volumes about how well the Peredhel knew Galadriel, and how well-aware he was of the intricacies of a marriage.

He fell silent for a minute, quietly continuing to run a comforting hand over Elrond's head while he pondered the question.

"Haldir asked me to convey his condolences to you. He also would like to tell you personally, in a quiet moment."

Elrond's tired eyes wandered over Celeborn's face for a moment. "Thank you," he finally said. "And please thank him ... on my behalf. But ... that does not really ... answer my question," he insisted.

Celeborn's reply was as cryptic as one would expect from the wisest elf-lord in Middle Earth: "Does it not?"

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

The evening was spent quietly. Ever-restless Glorfindel scoured the forest for berries and wild honey, anything to interest his ailing friend in eating. Also, he had the distinct feeling that it would put undue pressure on Elrond if he was constantly watched by two anxious friends just waiting for anything to change in his condition. It was not like he could help it that he was fading. If anything, it was a miracle that he had not yet succumbed to the grief that had been building up over the past year.

To be completely honest, Lord Celeborn had surprised him. Glorfindel had not seen him as anything but an almost-silent shadow to the Lady of Light for the past age or so. The ancient elf lord held great affection for his family, this the Golden Warrior knew, but for him to put up opposition against Lady Galadriel's actions was unheard of. And Glorfindel was almost sure that this was what had happened for Lord Celeborn to return to them simply out of concern for his son-in-law's wellbeing. At the Grey Havens, Lady Galadriel had seemed as aloof as ever, not that she usually showed much emotion. Lord Celeborn, on the other hand, had visibly struggled to hold on to his composure.

To know that he had another ally in fighting for Elrond's life came as an enormous relief for Glorfindel. During the past year, he and Erestor had tirelessly worked together to keep Imladris going for the Peredhil family, realising it was almost the only thing they could do to help.

The only crack in his armour that Elrond allowed his two best friends to see was a few months back, one late evening when Celebrían' newly-developed outbursts of temper had driven their lord from the family's quarters and into the library. Erestor must have heard the words Celebrían had shouted at her husband while Glorfindel, just coming back from a patrol, had not. He had, however, seen Elrond storm past him fighting tears, and Erestor watching from a distance with a deeply troubled expression on his usually impassive face.

In wordless agreement, the two seneschals had waited a few minutes to give their lord a chance to calm down if he wanted to, and then had followed him into the library. After assuring himself that the three of them were the only ones in the large room, Glorfindel had discreetly ordered a guard to allow no-one in, not even the members of Elrond's family. Then he had closed the door behind him and walked up to the two other elves in the back of the library.

Elrond was sitting in an armchair, slumped over, his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking in silent but violent sobs. Erestor was kneeling beside him, gently rubbing his back. Glorfindel, knowing better than to ask questions, just perched himself on the armrest of the chair opposite from Erestor and pulled Elrond slightly into his side.

Not one word had been spoken between them that evening. Still it was the moment they all realised that the only resolution to this impossible situation was for Celebrían to sail.

It had been another long and painful month until the lady of the house had reached the same decision.

When Glorfindel came back to the cave with a bowlful of berries and a freshly-filled water skin, he was greeted by almost the same sight as that night a few months back. Only Elrond was not crying _quietly_ now.

Carefully, Glorfindel set down his treasures and went over to where Celeborn was holding the fading half-elf in his arms. Without a sound, he went down on his knees and pulled both grieving father and husband into a firm embrace.

They stayed like that until Elrond's tears and strength were utterly spent and the only sound left to hear was that of the wind in the trees.


	4. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Once more a shout-out to Oleanne for her lovely review. Thank you!**_

 _ **Disclaimers: See chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warning: Please suspend all disbelief concerning the timeline. I had no idea about the distances until I stumbled across a map with a scale only after I had finished and posted the story. I tweaked the travel times a tiny bit, but when I worked out "realistic" times, I realised that would throw my narrative. So just imagine Elven horses have superpowers and can all but fly. Apologies to the purists - geography was NEVER my forte.  
**_

 **Chapter 3**

Meanwhile Galadriel, her grandchildren, Haldir, and the Imladris guards were slowly approaching the borders of the Hidden Valley. Scouts had spied them from afar and sent word to Erestor that the three elf lords were missing from the group.

Mildly alarmed by the news, and having spent a restless night, Erestor hurried out to greet the riders as soon as they reached the main court by dusk the following day. "My Lady Galadriel," he said, reaching up to help her alight from her horse. "What has befallen? I have received report from the scouts that the Lords Elrond, Glorfindel, and Celeborn are not with your party."

"Do not worry, Lord Erestor," Galadriel replied calmly for the benefit of her grandchildren. "Lord Elrond wished to linger a little longer at the Grey Havens, Lord Glorfindel of course stayed with him for protection, and Lord Celeborn decided he would like to join them, to discuss some matters in private, I am sure."

Of course that was a liberally glossed-over version of the truth, as Galadriel had sensed her husband's concern and distress the whole time. She also knew, by the way the Chief Advisor almost imperceptibly narrowed his eyes and the faintest trace of worry crossed his face, that Erestor was not fooled.

"I see. Thank you, Lady Galadriel. Your rooms are prepared. Dinner will be served in the family dining room, unless you wish otherwise."

"It is well. Thank you very much, Lord Erestor." And with that, Galadriel turned and gently ushered her grandchildren into the house.

Erestor turned to Haldir, studying the sombre face of the Marchwarden for a moment. "Something happened," he eventually said.

Haldir nodded in agreement. "I am not sure what it is, though," he quietly explained. "Lord Celeborn simply bid me escort Lady Galadriel and their grandchildren to Imladris. He was worried about Lord Elrond, although he did not say anything in specific. Not that he needed to." The warrior further lowered his voice. "Lady Celebrían's departure was ... not as I would have expected it to be."

Erestor did not even try to suppress his sigh. "That is what I had been afraid of," he murmured. He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I thank you for bringing them home safely, _mellon-nín_ ," he said. "Would you like to join me for dinner? It would be my pleasure."

"And it would be my great honour, Lord Erestor," Haldir replied with a slight bow. Before Erestor could turn around to return to the house, however, he spoke again. "Lord Erestor?"

"Yes?"

"I am worried about Lord Elrond as well. I have known him for a very long time, but I have never seen him like this. I fear for him. Should we not go back and bring them home?"

Erestor looked at the setting sun. He wanted to do the very same thing: throw all caution to the wind, get on a horse and find Elrond and the others. But as much as he hated it, he knew it was folly to do so. Again, he sighed deeply and shook his head. "No. 'Tis too great a risk to go this route after dark. Glorfindel will have found a safe place for them to spend the nights. If they are not back by tomorrow evening, we will go and find them and safely escort them to Imladris. Until then, let us give them time and space."

Haldir bowed again. "Of course you are right, Lord Erestor. I just hope they return safely. This family cannot bear another loss."

 _And neither could I,_ Erestor added in the privacy of his mind.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Another night was falling, too, on the forest between the Grey Havens and the Shire. It was quiet in the small cave, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. After the crisis the evening before, Elrond's condition had somewhat stabilised. He breathed a little more easily, and his heart had regained a more normal rhythm. He was still in a considerable amount of pain, but it was not as unbearable as earlier. He had even managed to eat a handful of berries during the day. It was not much, but at least some of the immediate danger had passed.

Now the three elf lords were sitting up against the wall of the cave, with Elrond in the middle, and listened to the crackling of the fire and the sounds of the nocturnal forest dwellers waking up. Fortunately, as they were still within the safe lands near the sea, they did not have to worry about night raids by orcs or any other fell creatures.

"I hope the others have safely reached Imladris," Elrond eventually said, his voice still faint, but finally without having to pause to gasp for air.

"They have," his father-in-law assured him, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him slightly into his side.

"I'd wager Erestor is going to despatch a search party if we are not back by tomorrow evening," Glorfindel mused.

Elrond sighed at that. "Dear Erestor," he murmured. "I hate to worry him so much."

Glorfindel gave an amused snort. "'Tis is Erestor. He worries."

A tiny smile flitted across Elrond's haggard face before disappearing again. "Imladris would fall if it were otherwise. He and you, Glorfindel, have kept everything going in the last year. Do not think I do not realise how much you have done. I owe you a great debt of gratitude, _mellon-nín_." He reached over to take Glorfindel's hand and squeezed it in thanks.

Glorfindel did his best not to flinch at how cold and weak Elrond's fingers felt. Instead he squeezed back and held on, trying to instil some warmth into the icy hand. "You owe me nothing, and I am sure Erestor would say the same if he were here. You are our best friend. Your family is our family. We would do everything for you. You know that."

"You already have," Elrond whispered.

"And we will continue to do so," Glorfindel promised. His arm joined Celeborn's around Elrond's back, as if to anchor him in the here and now. Elrond slumped slightly, his weary head sinking against his father-in-law's shoulder.

"I am so very tired," the half-elf admitted in a barely audible voice. "But I am afraid to fall asleep. I am afraid I may not wake up again."

Glorfindel wanted to cry. He had not known that things were this bad for his lord, but he felt he should have seen it.

"How long has this been going on?" Celeborn asked, kindly but with concern in his voice.

His son-in-law did not reply immediately, and Glorfindel felt he knew the answer, "A few months," Elrond eventually admitted.

Lord Celeborn levelled a questioning look at the Balrog Slayer, who just briefly closed his eyes and slightly shook his head. Apparently there was a back story to this piece of news, but it mattered not at this moment. "Well, it ends now. Sleep, _ion-nín_ , and fear not. We will be watching over you. Nothing will happen to you."

He tucked the blankets a little more tightly around his son-in-law, and he and Glorfindel scooted even closer to him. "Feel us breathing. Feel our hearts beating. Feel our warmth," Celeborn said in a low, soothing voice, gently caressing the side of the younger elf's face in a paternal gesture. "You are safe. Sleep. You are not alone."

Slowly Elrond's eyelids slid shut. His heartbeat and breathing completely evened out for the first time today, and he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

After a thankfully uneventful night, with Glorfindel and Celeborn again taking turns to sleep, all three were awake before first light. While Glorfindel and Celeborn made quick work of breakfast, sharing some Lembas and dried fruit along with fresh water from the small brook nearby, Elrond declined any food. He even visibly struggled to swallow the sweetened tea, only keeping it down with some effort. If the good night had fooled them into believing that he might be improving, the morning convinced them otherwise.

All the same, they decided to ride as soon as they finished packing and loading the horses. It was agreed that Elrond would ride with his father-in-law, freeing Glorfindel to scout and, if necessary, fight unhindered.

Glorfindel led the horses back to the road, followed by Lord Celeborn, who was once more carrying the ailing Peredhel. The feeble protest Elrond put up was silenced with a patient smile and the half-serious words "Save your strength, _ion-nín_. I would not have you waste your energy on walking when you will need it to mount the horse."

Elrond thought he should not be so proud of managing to climb on a horse's back, but he was. It saved him the disgrace of being heaved onto the steed like a sack of corn. He was insanely grateful, though, that his father-in-law pulled him flush against himself, holding him firmly in place and quietly bidding him to relax. Even after a restful night, he still felt as if he had not slept in months.

He was also grateful for the tender care the two battle-hardened warriors were giving him. Here, with just his beloved friend and father-in-law present, he did not have to be strong for a while. They were hardly ever breaking contact with him, as if afraid that he might fade if they did so for more than just minute – and, to be honest, it was a great comfort. He had felt so strangely disconnected from his own body for a while now that their reassuring touches were like a welcome confirmation that he was still alive. Their concern was like balm to the ragged edges of his tortured soul.

Elrond knew it was his own doing that he had let get things this bad. Countless times had Erestor and Glorfindel freely offered their help and comfort, but he had carefully closed himself off. He had feared he would completely fall apart if he accepted, unable to put himself together again. As that one night a few months back had shown, his fear was not unfounded. It had taken days until he had been able to somewhat function again. Now he realised that this was when he had started to fade.

With a despondent sigh he allowed himself to slump back against his father-in-law. He dearly loved the ancient elf-lord, having been through so much together in the long ages of their lives and never finding Celeborn anything but accepting of him, even when he had courted and eventually married his only child. Lady Galadriel had always been a much more fearsome presence. To this day, he did not call her anything but "my lady", while he had taken to occasionally calling Celeborn _adar_ when they were alone. And it was not just a word.

Lord Celeborn smiled sadly when he felt Elrond relax into him. He could not bear the thought of losing him, and if he indeed faded, the elf lord did not know what he would do. He would probably be too angry with his daughter and too loyal to Galadriel to sail, and he suspected his heart was too hardened against the sorrows of this world to fade ... though Elrond might just be the one to prove him wrong. He loved the younger elf like a son, in a completely different way from the way he loved his daughter. Celebrían would always be his baby, but Elrond was the son he had sometimes secretly longed for. Intelligent, brave and compassionate, the half-elf was all he could have wished for in a son _or_ a son-in-law. It was painful to see him like this.

"Is there anything you need, _ion-nín_?" he asked quietly, craning his head a little to look at Elrond's face.

"No, _adar_ ," Elrond replied in a slightly sleepy voice. "I have everything I could ask for at this moment."

Then everything went black and he knew no more.


	5. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Virtual chocolate chip cookies (or any other kind, if you don't like chocolate chip) to Oleanne for her review on chapter 3! If you others want some, too, all you have to do is hit that little button on the bottom of the page and tell me your thoughts. Just sayin'.**_

 _ **Disclaimers: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: none, except for angst. Also, a huge scoop of bromance – nothing less and nothing more. Kindly put away your goggles. Thank you.**_

 **Chapter 4**

The fond smile on Celeborn's face turned into an expression of sheer terror when he felt his son-in-law suddenly go completely limp in his arms.

"Elrond, no!"

Glorfindel heard the frightened shout and immediately pulled up alongside Celeborn's horse where he had stopped.

"What is it?" he asked, instinctively reaching out to help the other elf lord hold Elrond in place.

Celeborn shook his head. "I do not know. One moment he was talking to me, and the next moment he just ..." A helpless shrug followed before he forced his shaking fingers to search for a pulse on cold skin.

Glorfindel had to muster all of his considerable willpower to rest his hand on Elrond's chest. "He is breathing," he reported after a few moments, relief unmistakable in his voice.

"And his heart is beating," Celeborn murmured, "though his pulse feels weak and a little irregular. But it seems he just fell unconscious."

"I don't like it," Glorfindel said. "Let's make haste to Imladris. Will you be able to gallop with Elrond on your horse?"

The ancient elf lord nodded. "Aye, I think so. But we will need to stop regularly to make sure he is not getting worse."

So, with Celeborn holding Elrond firmly in place, they thundered off towards Rivendell.

They stopped twice on the way, finding the condition of the fading elf not any worse, but certainly not any better, either. Also, he remained deeply unconscious, prompting them to redouble their efforts in reaching the Hidden Valley.

Passing the first Imladris border guards, Glorfindel despatched one of them to get word to Erestor. So when they finally crossed the bridge over the Bruinen and rode into the main court, the chief advisor was already waiting for them.

An uncharacteristic shout of distress escaped the black-haired elf's lips the moment he laid eyes on the deadly pale, deadly still form of his lord. "Elrond, no!" he choked out, rushing forward to help Glorfindel and Celeborn lift him from the horse.

Holding the fading elf in his arms for a moment, Erestor wanted to cry. It was terrible to find confirmed what he had suspected ever since _that_ night a few months back.

"He lives," he heard Glorfindel's hoarse voice close to his ear. Then he looked up and into the wet, red-rimmed eyes of Lord Celeborn.

Seeing the mighty, ancient elf lord so ... _undone_ **...** jolted something in Erestor's shocked mind, and he drew himself up to his full height. "Then let us make sure he continues to do so." Though slightly reluctant to let go of his friend, Erestor gently passed him over to the waiting arms of Glorfindel and Celeborn so they could carry him into the house more easily. Turning around, he went ahead of them, barking orders as he strode forward with determined steps. "Get a healer to Lord Elrond's private quarters, and place two guards to stand watch there. Nobody enters there but by the consent of myself, Lord Celeborn, or Lord Glorfindel, until I say otherwise. That includes Lord Elrond's children and Lady Galadriel. And send for Haldir of Lórien; I would like to speak to him."

The servants and guards scurried off, while Erestor led the way to Elrond's private rooms. He opened the door for the small group to enter, then firmly shut it behind them.

The fight was on.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Very gently Celeborn settled his son-in-law on the bed. Elrond had yet to regain full consciousness, though his eyelids had briefly fluttered when Glorfindel had placed him in Celeborn's arms to go and help Erestor sort out the chaos that had arisen at the dramatic return of the Lord of Imladris. His keen Elven hearing could still make out some agitated voices outside in the hallway, but at the moment he could not care less.

With utter tenderness, as if handling something infinitely fragile, he pulled the boots from Elrond's feet and then proceeded to peel away the layers of somewhat uncomfortable travelling clothes. The room was warm, almost uncomfortably so, since Erestor had made sure that the fire in the fireplace was burning brightly by the time they arrived. As Celeborn undid layer after layer of clothing, until the half-elf was clad in nothing more than his tunic and leggings, the damage the last months had done to him became ever more visible. Elrond was _thin_ , nearly emaciated. When Celeborn sat down of the side of the bed, hips touching and a hand placed on Elrond's chest to reassure himself his son-in-law's heart was still beating, he could feel hard bones under too little flesh, even through the thin layer of clothing that remained.

"Elrond," he called out to the prone, unconscious half-elf. "Elrond, can you hear me? Come back to me, _ion-nín_."

He willed himself to remain calm when there was no reaction but a slightly deeper intake of breath and a passing acceleration of the other elf's heartbeat.

Resting his other hand on the icy cheek and stroking it softly, he called out again. "Please, _ion-nín_. Come back to me. You are safe. I am here. I will not let anything happen to you."

This time he was rewarded with another fluttering of eyelids as Elrond distinctly leaned into the touch.

"Open your eyes for me, please, _ion-nín_ ," Celeborn pleaded. Glorfindel and Erestor had entered the room, but he did not care that they could hear the desperation in his voice. He was certain that they felt the same.

This time Elrond indeed opened his eyes, visibly struggling to focus on the blurry shape before him. " _Adar_?" he asked in a small voice, and all three of the other elf lords felt tears of sadness, pain, and relief spring to their eyes.

"Yes, _ion-nín_. I am here, and so are Glorfindel and Erestor." It was hard to get the words out, past the heartache that threatened to strangle him.

"Where am I?" Elrond turned his head a little so he could look at his two best friends.

"You're back at Imladris. Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn arrived with you not half an hour ago," Erestor explained, taking a step closer to the bed and gingerly wrapping warm fingers around cold ones for a brief moment.

Elrond nodded, then lifted a shaking hand to his face and rubbed his eyes to help clear them. "The children?" he inquired, his voice somewhat stronger now.

"Arwen is in her room with Lady Galadriel. Elrohir and Elladan are waiting outside. Would you like to see them?" Erestor replied.

"Yes, I would, just for a moment. But first help me to sit up, please. It is hard to breathe lying down."

So it was done, and Erestor fetched the twins, kindly cautioning them not to overtax their father.

They came in, slowly, almost fearfully approaching the bed. " _Ada?_ " Elladan asked quietly, tears in his eyes and voice from the shock of seeing his father so frail.

"Come here, you two." Elrond motioned for them to come closer, hands spread out on the covers in a welcoming gesture, but far too weak to lift his arms for more than a brief embrace.

" _Ada,_ " Elrohir choked out on a half-sob, his head resting against his father's shoulder. "Please don't leave us, too!"

Elrond closed his eyes, tears slipping down his face and into his sons' dark hair. He did not know what to tell them, did not know if he could muster the strength or the will to keep himself from fading. So he said the only thing that he knew to be true. "I love you. Whatever happens, I will always love you."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

The self-recrimination on the head healer's face was plain to see. Second only to Lord Elrond, he thought he should have seen the signs sooner – or rather, put his foot down. Now there was almost nothing more he could do, and it tore him apart that he could tell Lord Erestor and Lord Glorfindel only what they already knew: "He is fading. I am sorry."

The Golden Warrior hung his head, a hand over his eyes, while the Chief Advisor's stern face took on a decidedly desperate expression. "Is there nothing at all we can do?" he implored the healer.

The elf shook his head. "Nothing that you are not already doing. His body needs rest and nourishment, this you know. I can give him medicines to strengthen him and ease his pain, but his soul ... You have cared for him well, this I can see, and I know you will continue to do so. But if your and his family's love is not enough to heal his soul, I do not know what is."

Erestor swallowed hard, then nodded. "Is there anything we can do wrong? I mean, is there anything to avoid, anything that could damage him more?" he asked.

"It seems you already have something specific in mind, Lord Erestor?" the healer enquired back.

"He is so cold; I know it makes him even more miserable. I also know that trying to warm somebody up from great cold can put a strain on their system, and putting additional strain on his heart and breathing is the last thing we would want to do, is it not?" the Chief Advisor explained.

"I see what you mean. No, there is nothing I can think of. Do whatever he is comfortable with. At this point, the only advice I can give you is not to leave him alone, not even if he asks you to. This kind of despair can make you say one thing while in truth you yearn for the opposite. Give him some room if necessary, but stay close by. He needs to know that he is loved and needed, and that he is not alone in his grief and pain."

The head healer glanced back at the closed door of the Lord of Imladris' private rooms. "I will go now and prepare some strengthening and pain-relieving medicines. By your leave, I will also give the kitchen some suggestions about food that Lord Elrond might find easier to eat. I will be back with the medicines within the hour." He turned around to go, then paused. "Please forgive me. I have suspected this might happen for quite some time now, but I always thought he might rally. Now I know I should have spoken up sooner."

Glorfindel raised his head and put a hand on the healer's shoulder. "Do not blame yourself too strongly, friend. In this, we all share the same guilt."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

When Erestor and Glorfindel came back into Elrond's room, they found Celeborn tucking yet another blanket around the shivering form on the bed. They sighed in unison. No matter what they had done to try and warm up their friend, nothing seemed to help. Maybe it was time to try something else.

"How would you like a bath, Elrond?"

Erestor's abrupt question was met with three sets of raised eyebrows. "Are you saying I am in need of one?" Elrond replied, a tiny spark of amusement showing through.

To his credit, the Chief Advisor did not miss a beat. "All three of you are, after two days on your horses and two nights in the woods, but that is beside the point. I simply thought the warm water might help you against the chill."

Elrond sighed. "That does sound nice ... though I do not think I can manage it at the moment." Deep embarrassment crept into the second part of the statement.

Celeborn rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "You do not have to manage on your own. We are all here to take care of you."

"And since Erestor so delicately stated that we are all in need of a bath," Glorfindel added with a little more levity, "we might as well use the hot pool in the basement. That has plenty of room for all of us, and ample space to manoeuvre."

"I will have guards posted so nobody else comes in while we are there," Erestor agreed, "and we can take the secret passageway down there."

Elrond looked up at the other three elf lords. "I am sorry to cause you so much trouble," he whispered.

A moment later he found himself surrounded on his bed, his cold hands held in slender, warm ones, a solid arm around his shoulders, and a comforting presence pressed close to his side. "It is no trouble, _mellon_. There is nothing we would not do for you. You are weary. Allow us to carry you for a while."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

The warm water of the pool fed by a hot spring underground was pure bliss. For the first time in months, the pain in Elrond's exhausted body receded completely, and he almost cried in relief. Held securely in the arms of his father-in-law, he relaxed into the solid frame of the ancient elf lord and allowed his eyes to slip shut again.

"Good?" he heard Glorfindel ask nearby.

"Oh yes," Elrond exhaled on a contented sigh. He could have sworn he could hear the Golden Warrior smirk, but was too comfortable to comment on it.

It was quiet in the large underground chamber, apart from the soft bubbling and splashing of the water. The scent of athelas filled the air, and the four elves in the room found themselves breathing more easily. _Dear, faithful Erestor_. He had thought of everything.

Elrond opened his eyes, seeking out the slender, dark-haired shape of his Chief Advisor and friend. How their dramatic entrance this morning must have scared him! Erestor was not easily shaken, but Elrond had recognised the look of fear on his fair features, and he felt bad for putting it there.

"Stop it right there," Erestor's soft voice floated into his ear. With precise, economical movements the Chief Advisor swapped places with Lord Celeborn, and within seconds Elrond found himself enfolded in another fierce, protective embrace. "What is happening to you is not your fault. If anything, you have wasted precious energy in trying to keep your pain and grief from us. So for goodness' sake, Elrond, please stop it!"

Although Erestor sounded almost angry, the tears in his voice were unmistakeable, and Elrond placed his hands on his friend's wrists to squeeze them in comfort. "Dear Erestor," he replied softly, "even though what you say is true, can I not be grieved about the sorrow this has brought upon all of us?"

Erestor lowered his head so he came tear-stained cheek to tear-stained cheek with his old friend. "Aye, Elrond, grieve you shall and may, so you can heal – but please let go of whatever guilt you feel, for in truth no guilt falls on you."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Gradually, Elrond felt warmth creep back into his limbs. The constant, bone-deep pain of the past months remained blissfully absent, and the gentle massage to his head and neck while Erestor skilfully washed his hair almost had him purr in delight. Thoroughly clean and relaxed, he was ready to fall asleep.

"All right, back to bed, _ion-nín_ ," Lord Celeborn chuckled when he noticed.

"Must I?" Elrond mumbled, cracking one eye open to look at his father-in-law. "The water is so nice ... and I am much too comfortable to move."

"I think you will be even more comfortable in your own bed, _mellon-nín_ ," Erestor agreed with the Lord of Lothlórien. "And you can have a few more minutes while Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn get dried and dressed."

Elrond nodded sleepily and closed his eyes again, hands entwined with those of his Chief Advisor as he held him safely in place, his head resting on Erestor's shoulder well above the water. The black-eyed elf smiled. Elrond had always been very affectionate, though it was only a handful of people outside his own family who knew this side of him. All the more painful had it been to watch how the elf lord had more and more withdrawn into himself during the past months.

The soft rustling of towels and clothes and the low sounds of the other two elves moving about became a soothing background hum as Erestor focused on Elrond's heartbeat and breathing for a while. Both were now a little less strained and more regular, which he counted as a success. It was tempting to pretend that Elrond had turned a corner and was out of danger now ... but Erestor was nothing if not realistic. It was all still in the balance. They could still lose the Lord of Imladris. _He could still lose his friend._

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

 ** _A/N 2: Reviewer Eldhoron asked why they did not carry Elrond into the house using a stretcher. That is a question I thought some others might have as well, so if you're interested in my explanation, read on (fair warning, it's a bit long and technical):_**

 ** _In my mind/headcanon, the Elven "fading" is a bit like human "Broken-Heart-Syndrome" (stress cardiomyopathy). A patient with cardiac symptoms would usually be transported in a sitting position, ideally with the legs not stretched out in a 90 degree angle, but rather at a slightly obtuse angle in relation to the torso. You can't do that with a regular stretcher; you would have to use some kind of chair or something. That would have been plain weird, a bit undignified, and also awkward in this scene._**

 _ **Also, consider that long, steep Last Homely House stairway leading from the courtyared to the house (and keep in mind that this is movie-verse, if anything). Carrying a stretcher up those stairs is something you would probably only do in absolutely dire need (maybe a spinal injury, where you have the patient firmly restrained to the stretcher) - think of all the tilting and jostling that would happen. It's unsafe for the patient and awkward for the medics. So where I live (not the US, as you may or may not have guessed) what is actually done in real life is that in houses that have long or narrow and/or winding staircases and no lifts (and we have quite a lot of these), the paramedics carry the patient down the stairs in a sheet. The thing is, they sometimes do the same with bodies. I have seen it done; it's disturbing. So that was an image I didn't want for this bit of the story.**_

 _ **In my first-aid training they taught us that in rough terrain or confined spaces, a good way to transport someone who is too injured or too sick to walk is to have two people lock arms and carry the patient. It's safe and quick. Also, body contact usually helps to reassure the patient and help them calm down - added benefit. Therefore I chose this mode of transportation for the scene.**_

 _ **Now Erestor would have known from the scouts that Elrond was riding with Celeborn and unconscious, but uninjured. So, clever elf that he is :) and given everything that happened in the preceding months, he might have foregone the stretcher, or maybe he had it at hand, but it wouldn't serve any narrative purpose bringing it into the story.**_


	6. Chapter 5

_**A/N: I feel like I am repeating myself, but thank you, Oleanne, for another beautiful review. I can assure you, the big bang is yet to come. Also, a shout-out to my new favouriter/follower Tara07. I would love to hear from you!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: none, except for more angst.**_

 **Chapter 5**

A golden-red sun set over Imladris the following day. At Elrond's insistence, his children along with his parents-in-law, Erestor, and Glorfindel gathered in the family dining room for supper. He himself sat at the head of the table, nursing a glass of the Dorwinion that Erestor had produced from somewhere on a top shelf in his study. After successfully managing a small plate of soup he was content to simply be among the people he held dearest in this world.

The Chief Advisor, the Balrog Slayer, and the Lord of Lothlórien kept some light table conversation going, in such a manner that was respectful of the circumstances, yet easy enough to ward off the ever-present gloom. The twins gratefully joined in, while the Lady of Light was silent and mysterious as usual.

Only Arwen seemed to struggle with their attempt at something resembling a normal dinner. She sat bent over her plate, only poking at her food, eyes full of tears that threatened to fall any moment. The young _elleth_ tried to hide her distress, but it was just too much. It was also too much for Elrond to watch. "Arwen," he softly called out to her, "would you come over to me for a minute, please?"

Nodding, she rose from her chair and went to her father. "Yes, _ada_?"

He gently pulled her on his lap and put a comforting hand on the crown of her head. "What is it, child?" he asked in a low voice.

Arwen sobbed once and slumped against her father, burying her face in his shoulder. " _Nana_ is gone. Why does life just go on when she is not here anymore?" she wept.

As if on cue, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the elf lord and his daughter. Elrond swallowed hard, at a loss for words. In the end he settled for the plain truth. "Life does not just go on. It has changed, very much. But we are still here, and there is nothing we can do but try and adjust to the change the best we can. However –" and he held up a hand when she was going to interrupt him. "– there is no one way to do this. Each of us is different, and the fact that we deal with our loss differently does not mean any disrespect to your _naneth_."

For some reason unknown even to herself, Arwen's anger flared. "And you deal with it by fading? Why did you not just sail with her if you cannot stand to stay with us?"

A horrified gasp went through the room, and Arwen slapped both hands over her mouth. Why had she said that? She had not meant to say that! She had not even consciously thought it until the words just tumbled out. "Forgive me _, ada!_ " she choked out. "Please forgive me! I did not mean that!"

Elrond, even though he felt like he had been punched in the stomach, pulled his daughter into his arms again. "I forgive you, my child." He gently rubbed her back until her tears were spent, then released her with a tender kiss to her forehead. "I can see you are tired, love. Go and try to rest."

With another nod, she bid goodnight to the rest of the group and left the room. Shortly after, Lady Galadriel excused herself to look after Arwen.

The twins exchanged a meaningful glance, then rose and walked over to their father. Enfolding him in their arms, they tried to pour all their love into this embrace, hoping their _adar_ would feel it deep down in his soul. "She does not mean ill, _ada_ ," Elladan whispered. "She simply does not know."

"I realise that," Elrond replied under his breath.

"You need to tell her, or she will remain angry for all the wrong reasons," Elrohir implored.

At this, Elrond shook his head. "I will not destroy her memory of her mother!" His voice was sad but firm. "She will find out for herself when she is ready. Right now, it would only do more damage."

The twins were unmistakably sceptical but decided not to press the matter when their father was so ill and weak. "As you wish, _ada_. But please do not take her words to heart. Do not place this as another burden on your soul."

Elrond affectionately pulled his sons to him and kissed both of them on the forehead. "When did you become so wise, my dear boys?" he asked with a fond smile.

"We learned from the very best!" Elrohir replied with a small smile of his own, while Elladan squeezed his father just a little tighter and pressed a kiss to his temple. And after telling him once more how much they loved him, the twins, too, retired for the night.

Lord Celeborn watched the entire exchange with growing trepidation. There obviously was a dark back story to what had happened in Imladris during the past few months that almost everyone was aware of but nobody talked about. And although he was not particularly given to foresight, he simply knew that it was the key to Elrond's suffering.

 _And it had to come out in the open, and soon, or it was going to literally choke the life out of the son of his heart._

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

The four elf lords remained sitting around the table for a long time, each of them dwelling on his own bleak thoughts. What had started out as so promising had turned into another defeat. In the end it was Elrond who broke the silence. "I am not doing it on purpose. I hope you know that," he said so softly it was barely audible.

"Doing what, _ion-nín_?" Celeborn asked, startled out of his ruminations.

"Fading," Elrond whispered. "I wish I knew how to stop this, but I do not. I cannot. I do not know what to do."

Glorfindel reached over and took his hand. "Of course you cannot, _mellon-nín_ ," he replied with a comforting squeeze. "Nobody _chooses_ to fade."

"I _am_ trying to hang on, I really am. Please, you have to believe me!" Suddenly his voice turned desperate. "It is just ... it is like free falling, with nothing to hold onto or to break my fall. I see you reaching out to me, and I try to reach back, but I seem to be slipping further and further away, like something is pulling me ..." He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking, before doubling over and gasping with the pain that slammed back into him with a vengeance.

In a matter of seconds, the other three elf lords were on their feet and next to him. They pulled back his chair for better access, and while Erestor rushed to Elrond's bedroom to get a blanket, Glorfindel knelt in front of his friend and drew him forward so his head was resting on his shoulder. Then he swept the long, dark hair out of the way and began to massage the taut muscles in Elrond's neck and shoulders. "Breathe, _ion-nín_ ," Celeborn instructed more calmly than he felt while he gently pulled Elrond's hands away from his face. "Squeeze my hand," he murmured, crouching down and closing one hand around both of Elrond's rapidly cooling ones. His free arm went around his back so the fading half-elf would hopefully feel less exposed.

Erestor reappeared, draped the blanket around Elrond, and pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. "The pain medicine," he explained, stirring a spoonful of the powder into a cup of water. Carefully, they helped Elrond to sit up and drink the medicated liquid.

He winced at the bitter taste, struggling for a moment to get it down and keep it there. It would be a while before the medicine started to work, and the pain was so bad, he could hardly hold himself upright. "Please ...," he whispered, trembling all over and barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone a full sentence.

But the others understood. In what was by now a finely tuned choreography, Glorfindel and Celeborn picked him up to carry him to his room while Erestor hurried ahead to turn down the covers on the bed. Not a minute later he was as comfortably situated as he could be under the circumstances, propped up by pillows to ease his breathing and soft blankets pulled up to his shoulders for warmth.

Only half-conscious by the time the last of the six gentle hands pulled away from their ministrations, he still felt the loss of contact like a stab to his already aching heart, and a distressed whimper escaped him. Immediately one of the hands was back, resting warm and strong on his cheek, and the side of his bed dipped as someone sat down next to him. "What is it, _ion-nín_?" His father-in-law's voice was low and concerned, but full of warmth.

"Don't ... please ... don't go ...," Elrond gasped in between the spasms of pain that gripped his chest.

The ancient elf lord found himself blinking back tears at the fear in his son-in-law's voice. _It is like free falling, with nothing to hold onto or to break my fall ..._ His heart clenched as he recalled Elrond's words from only a few minutes ago, and he made a quick decision. "I won't," he said, motioning to Erestor and Glorfindel to help him. He discarded his boots and sat back against the headboard of Elrond's bed, pulling the half-elf into his arms and settling him against his chest. "Be still, child," he whispered just loud enough for Elrond to be able to hear him. "I am here. I will not let go."

Blindly Elrond reached for his father-in-law's hands and grasped them as firmly as he could. " _Hannon le_ ," he breathed, and for the second time in as many days went completely limp in the strong arms.

Erestor sank down on the end of the bed, pulling Elrond's blanket-covered feet into his lap and starting to rub his legs so as to stimulate circulation. He flinched when he heard Glorfindel heave a sob and flee the room.

Then everything went still.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Throwing all regards for appearances and poise to the wind, Glorfindel ran down the halls of the Last Homely House, which was on the brink of having its heart taken away. Never in his whole long life, maybe with the exception of the Balrog-slaying part, had he been so afraid, and so completely overwhelmed. He needed to get out, to get some air, to get _away_ from the fading elf lord so he could clear his head and think of something, _anything_ , to help in this hopeless situation. As much as he was known for thinking on his feet, his mind was completely blank in the face of his friend's imminent death. He felt like a coward for running away instead of staying and providing what comfort he could, but he also felt his own heart shattering, and he knew he could not draw any attention away from Elrond. So he ran.

As it happened, he ran past Haldir without noticing the Marchwarden – the Marchwarden, however, noticed in an instant that something was terribly wrong. He had known Glorfindel for a long time, considered him a good friend even, and they had often fought side by side; but he had never seen Glorfindel so reduced to tears as he was now.

Starting to follow his fellow warrior, he caught sight of Lady Galadriel out of the corner of his eye. Apparently she had perceived the turmoil going on in the house and come out of her rooms to see what was amiss. From the quizzical expression on her face, Haldir knew she had noticed Glorfindel running out. He bowed slightly. "My lady, by your leave I will go after him and find out what is going on."

"Thank you, Haldir," she replied softly. "He will be in need of a friend." Then she returned to her room and shut the door.

Although Haldir found it strange that she would retire to her quarters rather than go and help with Lord Elrond, he decided that it was no stranger than anything else that had transpired within the past few days, and dismissed it. Picking up a brisk walk, he followed Glorfindel out into the night.

It did not take him long to catch up with the Balrog Slayer, for he found him standing in the middle of the main courtyard, one hand covering his eyes, the other arm braced across his chest as if to hold himself together. Probably this was not far from the truth. The Marchwarden glanced around and, seeing the night guard watch them with unsure, troubled expressions on their brave faces, decided he needed to contain the situation, lest anyone jump to inaccurate conclusions. He walked up to the Golden Warrior and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Lord Glorfindel ... what is it?" he asked so softly that only the elf next to him could hear his question.

When no answer was forthcoming and Glorfindel's struggle to hold on to his composure seemed to be growing by the second, Haldir steered his fellow warrior across the courtyard and towards the stables, which he knew to be empty of unwanted listeners. He sat the seneschal of Imladris down on a hay bale and put an arm around his back. "It is Lord Elrond, is it not?" he inquired, surprised that his own voice came out somewhat strangled. "Is he ... has he ...?"

Haldir could not bring himself to say the word, and he dreaded to hear the answer. It was quiet for another long few moments, until Glorfindel lowered both arms into his lap and turned his head to look at Haldir with red-rimmed, wet eyes. "He is not long for this world," he whispered. "He is fading, and there is nothing we can do."

The Marchwarden swallowed hard and lowered his head. Strangely enough, he knew not to ask why the Lord of Imladris had chosen the risk of fading rather than sailing to the West. Apart from Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, Lord Elrond was the wisest elf in all of Middle Earth. He would have a very good reason for his choice.

"I am sorry," he said softly, squeezing his fellow warrior's shoulder in silent support. "Is there anything I can do to ease your burden? Any task you could delegate to me so you are free to spend time with Lord Elrond and his family? I would gladly help, seeing as I sit idly anyway while I am here."

Glorfindel looked up with a small, grateful smile and was just about to reply when Lady Galadriel's voice came from the doorway. "Do not be so eager to offer your services elsewhere, Marchwarden, when you do not know whether they will be needed to attend your Lord or Lady."

Her tone was so ominous that Haldir bristled immediately. "Forgive me, my lady, but Lord Celeborn informed me that we would be here for at least a fortnight," he responded, getting to his feet before Lady Galadriel.

"That might be true for Lord Celeborn, but Lady Arwen and I will be leaving for Lothlórien the day after tomorrow. Be prepared to escort us. I am sure Lord Glorfindel is perfectly capable of attending to his duties without your assistance."

"What are you saying?" Glorfindel shot to his feet, taking a quick step towards Lady Galadriel. "With all due respect, but you cannot take Lady Arwen from Imladris while Lord Elrond's life is in the balance!"

"If she stays, and sees her father fading, she will be the next to go."

The matter-of-fact statement brought Glorfindel up short, but he rallied quickly. "If she goes, his life is most assuredly forfeit!"

"His life was forfeit the minute he foolishly chose not to sail with Lady Celebrían," Galadriel retorted haughtily.

While Haldir looked on with an incredulous expression on his face, Glorfindel was positively livid. "You know _nothing_ , my lady," he shot back through clenched teeth. "I am deeply grieved at what has been done to Lady Celebrían, because I loved her as much as I love Lord Elrond. But her soul was corrupted by the darkness that was inflicted on her, and rather than seeking help, she allowed it to change her so much that I did not even recognise her anymore. The orcs might have broken her, but it was _her_ who broke Lord Elrond. If he fades, his death is on _your daughter's hands_!"

Glorfindel's voice had risen with every sentence, so much so that the last words were shouted at a volume that Haldir only knew from the battlefield. Leaving Lady Galadriel standing there thunderstruck, the Balrog Slayer rushed past her and back to the Last Homely House. For a second, Haldir wondered at the wisdom of what he was about to do, but then decided to go with his finely-honed instincts.

"With all due respect, my lady, but I feel duty-bound to await Lord Celeborn's instructions." And with a brief bow to his lord's wife, he turned and followed Glorfindel.


	7. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Once more, thank you, Oleanne, for your review on the previous chapter. I hope this fairly short chapter does not disappoint – I can promise you, it is short for a good reason.**_

 _ **FYI, I may not be able to post again before the weekend, because now and then my business requires some attention, too. But that should give you, my lovely readers, plenty of time to review. You know, I have my job, you have yours. Also, it might help you to pass the time ... Just sayin'.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: none, except for more angst.**_

 **Chapter 6**

When Glorfindel returned to Elrond's bedroom, he was calmer and his thoughts more ordered. The little group sat unchanged from when he had left them, with Erestor at Elrond's feet and Celeborn holding his son-in-law propped up against him. Glorfindel approached the bed and, kneeling down beside it, put one hand on Elrond's chest and the other one on Celeborn's arm. "I am sorry for leaving like that," he apologised, "but I did not want to inflict any further upset on you."

He turned his head towards Erestor and shared a heartbroken look with his best friend at the desolate state of their beloved lord. Then he drew a deep breath to ready himself for delivering the upsetting news he had just received. "Lord Celeborn, I regret having to draw you away at this moment, but there is something important I need to discuss with you urgently."

The silver-haired elf lord looked a little surprised but nodded. "Would you please help Erestor swap places with me?" he replied, so Glorfindel did. Elrond stirred to a half-conscious state at the movement, eyes searching the room to understand what was going on, but was quickly reassured by Erestor's calming touch.

"Hush, _mellon-nín_ ," he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle lines along Elrond's forehead and down the bridge of his nose in a soothing motion which he had seen mothers use with their babies. It seemed to invariably put them to sleep ... and it seemed to work on age-old elf lords as well. Elrond's eyes slipped shut again, and his breathing evened out in light slumber.

With a tender smile Celeborn looked down on the two and then followed Glorfindel into the hallway. The Golden Warrior led him a few paces away from the guards at the door, then said in a low voice: "Forgive me, my lord, but are you aware that Lady Galadriel plans to leave Imladris the day after tomorrow and take Lady Arwen with her?"

Celeborn's eyes narrowed, sending a displeased rush of emotion towards his wife. "No, I was not aware of that. I assume you have spoken with her; did she give any reason for her plans?"

Glorfindel swallowed hard. "She said Arwen would fade, too, if she saw her father die."

The silver-haired elf shook his head. "That is not certain – but it will most certainly kill Elrond if Arwen leaves now."

The Golden Warrior gave a little huff. "This is exactly what I said to Lady Galadriel. Please, can you not convince her otherwise? Surely there must be a way to keep Lady Arwen here while Elrond's life stands on the edge of a knife without endangering her?"

Celeborn nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I will go and talk to her right away. But ... please call me immediately if anything changes in Elrond's condition. I fear he is not long for this world ... and I want to be with him to the end ... if it comes to that." The ancient elf lord's voice broke, and he graciously accepted Glorfindel's steadying, comforting hand on his shoulder.

After a moment he gathered himself, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Glorfindel," he whispered. "You are a very good friend."

Then he went off with a brisk stride, determined to – very lovingly, of course – give Lady Galadriel a piece of his mind.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

As he left the private wing of the Peredhil family, Lord Celeborn almost ran into Haldir, who was waiting patiently in the hallway. He had followed Glorfindel at a distance to make sure his friend was all right, but had not dared to venture past the door that separated the family's quarters from the rest of the Last Homely House. "Celeborn _hîr-nín_ ," he greeted his lord with a respectful bow.

"Haldir," Celeborn replied, a genuine smile slipping onto his face. "It is good to see you, _mellon-nín._ "

"And you," Haldir returned the smile, but only for a second. "How is Lord Elrond?" he asked, looking deeply troubled. "When I found Lord Glorfindel, he was so upset that for a moment I assumed the worst."

Celeborn sighed. "He has regained consciousness and was in a natural sleep when I left the room, but he is getting worse again. I fear he has not much time left." It was only marginally easier to say the words to Haldir, maybe because the faithful Marchwarden was close enough to care deeply, but distant enough to be a pillar of strength.

"Do I have permission to speak freely?" Haldir asked.

The ancient elf lord looked taken aback. "Why ever not?"

"Because I am likely going to overstep some boundaries," the Marchwarden replied bluntly.

It took Lord Celeborn only a moment to read between the lines of that statement. "Has Lady Galadriel said something to you?" he asked with a frown on his face.

"She reminded me of my station in no uncertain terms. I would hate to repeat the experience with you, my lord," Haldir commented drily.

"Well, speak as freely as you please. I have never known you to overstep any boundaries."

Under any other circumstances, the Marchwarden would have smiled at the remark. As it was, he simply started recounting what had transpired in the stables earlier on. By the time he was finished, Lord Celeborn felt strangely relieved. It was true that the new details concerning his daughter were unsettling, but he finally had an idea for a last attempt at saving the son of his heart.

After a few long minutes of silent deliberation, he looked up and put a hand to Haldir's arm. "Thank you very much, _mellon-nín_. You have done exactly the right thing. I will go and speak with Lady Galadriel. No-one is going to return to Lothlórien until it is clear what will become of Lord Elrond." He paused, studying the anxious face of his most trusted warrior. "Would that I could send you to retire for the night and rest, but I may have need of your help yet."

Haldir stood a little straighter, if that was even possible. "What does my lord require?"

Celeborn was just about to reply when Glorfindel came thundering through the door. "Lord Celeborn!" he choked out. "Please come quickly!"


	8. Chapter 7

_**A/N: I'm back with the next chapter. Oleanne, my most faithful (and as yet only) reviewer, here it comes. And all of you, you might want to keep a tissue box handy.**_

 _ **As always, I would love to hear from you.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: angst, but you know this by now.**_

 **Chapter 7**

Cold dread filled the ancient elf lord when he stepped into his son-in-law's bedroom. Elrond was gasping for air, worse than before, and he was trembling so hard that Erestor had trouble keeping him upright. "What happened?" he asked the Chief Advisor while he sat down by Elrond's side opposite of Erestor and helped him hold the fading elf steady.

"I do not know," Erestor replied in obvious distress. "He seems to have had a vision of sorts, and suddenly he could not breathe. He was saying something, but all I could make out was 'don't take her away'."

Celeborn nodded, switching positions to face Elrond, and tugged him forward so his head came to rest on his chest. "Hear my heartbeat," he instructed quietly, "and feel me breathing. Be calm, _ion-nín_. You are safe."

Elrond frantically shook his head against his father-in-law. "She's going ... to take her away. Please ... don't let her ... take her away ..." he panted.

"Who, Elrond?"

"Arwen ... she's going to ... take Arwen away ..."

An unkind word towards his wife crossed Celeborn's mind, but he could not bring himself to care. "No, she is not, _ion-nín_. She is not going to take Arwen anywhere." One hand gently splayed over the side of Elrond's head, the other between his shoulder blades, Celeborn held him close, trying to convey all his love and protection in that simple embrace.

After a moment he felt trembling arms wrap feebly around his middle, and a weary sigh against his chest. Then a whisper: "Thank you ... _ada_."

Silence fell over the room, a quiet, pensive sadness mingled with memories and longings. Glorfindel settled on the bed next to Erestor, shoulders touching, fingers brushing briefly as in unspoken consent they drew a blanket up to Elrond's shoulders. There their hands remained, connected to the one person they held dearest in this world.

Hours passed, the fire burning low and the rays of a barely crescent moon falling through the tall windows. Elrond was completely calm now, though not asleep. The gratitude he felt for the other three _ellyn_ being with him and pouring out their love and care for him was beyond words. Settled back against the headboard again, propped up by pillows, tucked into the softest blankets and surrounded by his father-in-law and his two best friends, he felt safe ... and loved.

The realisation of how long it had been since he had last felt this way, and what he had suffered ever since, threatened to send another wave of pain through his heart, but this time he found himself fighting it. He would not let the hurt sully the precious, beautiful gift he was being given.

And yet it had disturbed the peace of the moment.

Almost desperate to regain it, Elrond glanced towards the window nearest to him, out into the night and up towards the starry sky. The stars in their ancient constancy had always been a source of inner calm to him.

Following his gaze, and sensing the subtle shift in his mood, Celeborn sat up a little. "What is it, _ion-nín_?"

"I'd like ... to see the stars," Elrond replied softly, and there was something so wistful in his words, something so pleading that Celeborn felt hot tears return to his eyes. He exchanged a look with Erestor and Glorfindel, who simply nodded in agreement.

Celeborn blinked back the traitorous tears and willed his voice to be steady. "Then we will take you to see the stars."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

"Do you have a favourite place to watch the stars?" Celeborn asked while he helped his son-in-law into a warm, soft robe and proceeded to put socks on his feet.

Elrond thought for a minute. Actually there were many places in Imladris from which one had a stunning view of the night sky; none of them, however, were as secluded as he wished them to be for a night like this. There was one spot that only few had ever seen as it belonged to the private quarters of the Peredhil family. It was also the one spot he could not stand to be at the moment, and maybe ever again, because the only access to it was through the bedroom that had once been his and Celebrían's.

"The balcony outside my study," he decided eventually.

"I will go and clear the path," Glorfindel said, glad that there was something to do for him. "Give me ten minutes, then come." And off he was.

Meanwhile Erestor made some fresh tea, enough for the four of them, and prepared another dose of the medicines the healer had left for Elrond. His friend took them without comment or complaint, which was disconcerting and encouraging at the same time: apparently he was too weak and weary to put up a fight, yet willing to try whatever it took to stay with the people he loved, even if it was only for a little longer.

It was a relatively short trip through the quiet hallways of the Last Homely House. There were not many people whom Glorfindel would have had to send the other way at this hour of the night, though both Erestor and Celeborn suspected the Golden Warrior mainly wanted to make sure that neither Galadriel nor Arwen were anywhere in sight. The silver-haired elf lord smiled a little at the thought that the Balrog Slayer was one of the few people in Middle Earth who dared to take on the Lady of Lothlórien. Even after ages of being married to Galadriel, there were days when he himself would rather face a Balrog than cross his wife, be it ever so unintentionally.

A brief look at his son-in-law whom he carried in his arms sobered him up instantly. When Celebrían and Elrond met, it was one of the most beautiful love stories he had ever seen unfold. No-one thought their love could ever end, even disregarding the fact that the love between a bonded couple of elves hardly ever did. And if it did, only few survived in Middle Earth – most sailed or faded.

But somehow the encroaching darkness had destroyed Celebrían's and Elrond's bond, even if Celeborn had yet to find out how exactly that had happened. Deep in his heart, he feared the answer.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Turning the last corner to Elrond's study, Celeborn caught a brief glimpse of Haldir, who was discreetly stepping back into the shadows as they passed, so the Lord of Imladris would not know that he was there. Their eyes briefly locked, and Celeborn noticed the expression of sorrow on his Marchwarden's fair face. Then the small group entered the study, with Erestor closing the door behind them. However, Celeborn knew that Haldir would be keeping watch so that nobody disturbed them.

Glorfindel had put four chairs and a small table on the balcony, in keeping with their original idea to sit outside, watch the stars and sip tea. Celeborn made to settle Elrond in one of the chairs, but the half-elf shook his head. "Set me down on my feet, please," he requested quietly yet in a stronger voice than before.

He swayed for a brief moment, grateful for his father-in-law's arm around his back, but then found his balance and strode forward to the railing of the spacious balcony. Putting both hands on the cool stone, he turned his face up towards the night sky and drew a deep breath. A serene expression settled on his drawn features, his heart slowed to a more normal pace, and the persistent pain in his body receded.

"It is a beautiful night," he mused, glancing down at the silvery rippling surface of the Bruinen.

Then for the longest time nobody said a word. The only sounds were those of the softly rushing water of the river and the few nocturnal animals in the Hidden Valley.

 _The night is darkest just before the dawn._ The ancient saying crossed Elrond's mind unbidden, and instinctively his gaze swept the night sky. This night was not dark, certainly not the darkest he had ever seen. Therefore dawn would be heralded by the fading of the stars. Was this where the saying came from? That the fading of one light made everything seem a little darker until an incomparably stronger light took over?

Something stirred in his soul, and he allowed himself to follow the gentle nudging. It was a memory, one that seemed very distant now, almost like from another life. And for all its beauty it plunged the night into deeper shadow, but not as a stronger light that was slowly taking over, but rather like a heavy rain cloud that suddenly drew across the moon and made one lose all sense of direction for a time.

"Celebrían and I used to spend many a night here," he whispered, almost without realising he was actually speaking the words. "She would come to draw me away from my work, and we would end up sitting out here until late, just watching the stars."

A small smile crossed Lord Celeborn's face. "She loved the stars, even when she was very young. She used to sneak out to a clearing, lie down in the grass and look up at the night sky." He paused, turned his face up at the sky, and whispered: "Maybe she is doing it now in the Undying Lands."

"Maybe," Elrond conceded. "If only she has something she finds joy in again ...," his voice trailed off, sad and pensive.

"She will heal. In time, she will heal and be happy again," Celeborn assured him. "And when the time comes for you to be reunited, your love will be restored to its former beauty and beyond."

Elrond suppressed a sob and shook his head. "I hope so," he ground out eventually. "I truly hope so, because in the end, she hated me."

The words were out before he could stop himself and hung in the air, turning it to ice.

Celeborn looked thunderstruck. "She did not hate you," he disagreed emphatically. "She _loved_ you, more than anything. Maybe she was not able to show it in the end, but–"

Elrond whirled around, eyes blazing. "No, she _didn't_! Not in the end. She _hated_ me!" he shouted. "She _told_ me she hated me!"

Celeborn stared at him in utter shock. He looked from his son-in-law to the two seneschals who were standing just a few feet away, silently begging them to deny what Elrond had screamed out in despair – but they just looked back at him with stony faces.

"She said she hated me for not letting her die, and she showed me every day! She did not talk to me. When she saw me, she went the other way. She looked at me as if I was one of her tormentors. And when I accidentally touched her, she hit me. _Don't_ tell me she loved me, because she didn't. Not anymore!"

Chest heaving, Elrond let his arms fall to his sides, and his voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "And she forbade me to sail. She said she'd rather kill herself than spend eternity with me!" His breath hitched and he swayed on the spot. "She just should have killed _me_ then and there."

Celeborn struggled to take it all in. This was worse than he had imagined, but, if he was completely honest with himself, exactly what he had feared. It was even worse than the violation to their marriage bond that the orcs had inflicted.

And his loyal, faithful son-in-law had carried his own wounds in silence, exposing himself to all sorts of suspicions and ugly whispers, just to protect his wife's dignity and reputation.

No wonder he was fading.

Shaking himself out of his state of consternation, Celeborn took three quick steps towards Elrond, caught him in a firm embrace and held him safely. "She was wrong," he choked out between hitching breaths. "She was _wrong_ , and what she did was _cruel_. She had _no_ right to do that, and you did not deserve _any_ of it. I am so sorry for all the pain she caused you. And I am sorry you had to bear this burden all alone."

Elrond clung to him, all but unable to breathe as all the hurt and pain and grief and despair of the past year broke forth in a storm of tears. The enormity of all that had happened crashed down on father and son-in-law, bringing them to their knees.

Now that all was out in the open, they could finally truly grieve over what they had lost.

Just a short distance from them, four others were standing in the dark of the night, locked in a firm embrace, weeping, taking and giving comfort in equal measure.

A few rooms away, a golden-haired figure sank down to the floor in front of her open window, for the first time in millennia crying tears of guilt and shame.


	9. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Chapter 8. Long chapter. I said this would be the last one, but upon revision I saw that chapter breaks needed to be different from what I had planned, and a few things needed to be tweaked or expanded so they would make more sense. Now I think there will be one more chapter after this, plus a short epilogue.**_

 _ **Thank you, Oleanne, for your thoughtful review. And thank you, guest "Someone" – I'm so excited to have another reviewer! Glad you've liked things so far; I promise I'm not quite done yet.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: Errrr ... fluff, I think. Yeah, who would have thunk it ...**_

 **Chapter 8**

As morning dawned over the Hidden Valley, its inhabitants awoke with the distinct feeling that the night had brought a change in the air. Many found themselves searching ground and sky for any signs that it had rained, or was going to rain, so palpable was the difference in the atmosphere.

Haldir, still standing watch outside the Lord of Imladris' study, was probably one of the few who had actually sensed the moment the change had happened. He glanced towards the window across the hallway as the first rays of the sun started to tease the walls of the Last Homely House, and smiled. After the twins had rushed past him and into their father's study the previous night, and the earthquake of emotions that followed, a peaceful silence had settled over the room. Now soft shuffling sounds behind the heavy oaken door announced the first signs of waking within.

Not a minute passed before the door opened and Glorfindel stepped out. He seemed surprised and completely unsurprised at the same time to see Haldir still on his post. The Golden Warrior looked sombre, but notably less tense than the night before. A small smile crossed his face as he locked eyes with the Marchwarden. " _Hannon le, mellon-nín_ ," he said sincerely and clasped arms with the fellow warrior.

"There is no need to thank me. It was the least I could do," Haldir replied, conveying with the tone of his voice what he could not, _would_ not put into words.

"Would you care for some breakfast?" Glorfindel asked, fully understanding the swirl of emotions that played in Haldir's blue eyes. "Erestor will be joining us in a minute."

"I would like that very much ... if there is nothing else to do at the moment?"

The Golden Warrior shook his head, slinging an arm around the Marchwarden's shoulders and steering him towards the kitchens. "Nay ... we would only get in the way of Erestor's morning routine," he chuckled.

"Morning routine?" Haldir echoed a little incredulously. Only once before had he heard this particular expression, and it was while playing chaperone for a group of adolescent _ellyth_ (an experience that still made him blush deeply when thinking of it).

"Well, the rest of us would call it tidying up, but you know ... toMAYto, toMAHto ..."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Celeborn was roused by the low sounds of someone moving quietly about the room. He turned his head and smiled at Erestor, who was just peeking around a book shelf into the cosy alcove in the back of Elrond's study. The Chief Advisor returned his smile with a decidedly fond look at the occupants of the cushion-littered space. It was a unique sight indeed: the Lord of the Golden Wood sat wedged into a corner, virtually pinned down by his son-in-law and his two grandsons, who, reclining against his chest and sides, were peacefully sleeping in a hopeless tangle of warm blankets, long limbs and dark hair.

Elrond's eyes were still closed in exhaustion, something that would probably linger for a few more days, but his complexion looked a lot healthier than a few hours ago and his chest rose and fell easily with steady breaths.

Celeborn took stock of things for a moment before his smile widened. "His heartbeat is completely regular," he whispered to the Chief Advisor, "and he is _warm_!"

Erestor felt tears rising to his eyes once more, but he did not even try to hide them. He crossed the short distance to the family and, gracefully kneeling down beside them, gently took Elrond's hands in his own. They were dry and warm to the touch with a natural, healthy warmth, all of the sickly clamminess completely gone. Overcome by emotion and gratitude, Erestor lowered his head, touching his forehead to the back of the hand nearest to him and whispering a brief prayer of thanks. Then he rose to his feet, bowed slightly to Lord Celeborn, and hurried out of the room.

The ancient elf lord followed him with his eyes until he was gone, grateful that the son of his heart had such wonderful friends in his life. Then he looked down on his family, and his gratitude deepened. It was still too early to make safe predictions, but he felt that the worst was behind them for the time being.

In familiar but still uncanny synchronicity Elladan and Elrohir stirred at the same time. Their first focused look went to their father, followed by one at each other, and another at their grandfather. Lord Celeborn smiled and put his hands on their heads in a reassuring gesture. "All is well," he whispered. Almost unbelieving, the twins settled back down, each placing a hand on their father's warm chest to feel it rise and fall in an easy rhythm. Tears of relief slipped down their faces as they nestled into their father's sides like the little elflings they once were.

All fell back into a light doze until Erestor and Glorfindel returned about an hour later, carrying breakfast, water and towels. "We thought some inward and outward refreshment might be in order," Erestor commented quietly at the sleepy looks he got from the twins and their grandfather. Elrond blissfully slept on, even through the rearrangement of bodies, cushions, and blankets that now unfolded.

"Should we wake him?" Elladan mused between two bites of toast a few minutes later.

"I would rather let him sleep," Erestor replied, shaking his head. "He has a lot of rest to catch up on."

"That is true, but he also needs to take nourishment to give him strength to heal," Lord Celeborn pointed out reasonably. He rose from his seat at the table and knelt down beside his son-in-law. Running his fingers through the soft, dark hair, he bent low and spoke gently. "Elrond? Good morning, _ion-nín_. Come, wake up."

There was an indistinct hum and a muffled reply that sounded suspiciously like "Five more minutes, _ada_!" It was enough to give the twins a bad case of the giggles.

"Oh, this is priceless!" Elladan snorted, almost choking on his tea. "Now we have proof that _not_ being a morning person is running in the family!"

Their grandfather shot them an amused look before turning back to Elrond. "You can sleep more later, _ion-nín_. For now, I think, you are in need of some tea and toast, if the growling of your stomach is anything to go by."

Elrond sat up without assistance, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and trying to get his bearings. "You are all still here?" he asked when he noticed Erestor and Glorfindel.

"Not exactly. We are just back for second breakfast," replied the Golden Warrior.

"Speak for yourself, you bottomless pit," Erestor grumbled in good humour. It was a glorious feeling to have at least some sense of normalcy return after a year of oppressive tension.

"I hope the bottomless pit has left me some porridge and fruit," Elrond quipped while he slowly made his way over to the breakfast table, thankful for his father-in-law's hand at his elbow. For all that he felt much better than he had in months, he still found it hard to keep his balance and coordinate the movement of his limbs.

Grinning, Glorfindel shoved the requested bowl and plate towards Elrond just as he sat down, insanely pleased to see his friend interested in food.

The elf lord ate slowly but without difficulty, and if he managed not even half of his food, no-one commented on it. He leant back in his chair and looked around, into the faces of his beloved family and friends. They all looked so happy – so very different from the night before, and it dawned on him that he was the reason for that. A new kind of warmth spread through him, starting in his heart and filling him with a deep sense of love and gratitude. "I thank you all," he said softly, "and I cannot even begin to tell you how much I love each and every one of you. You are a great blessing to me."

And opening his arms, he received them all into his embrace.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

About half an hour later, just as everyone was going to head for their own rooms for a wash and a change of clothes, there was a soft knock on the door of study. Raising an eyebrow in a stunningly Elrond-like fashion, Erestor went to answer.

"Forgive me, Lord Erestor, but the Lady Galadriel requests to see Lord Elrond," Haldir's soft voice carried into the room.

Immediately all other eyebrows in the room shot up to their respective owner's hairlines. The Lady of Light _requesting_ something? That was almost unheard of, even for her husband.

Elrond crossed the room slowly but under his own power. "Did she say about what?" he asked the Marchwarden as he stopped in the doorway next to the Chief Advisor.

Despite having felt the change in the air and hearing the encouraging reports from Erestor and Glorfindel over breakfast, Haldir felt overwhelmed at seeing the Lord of Imladris alive and so much improved. In awe, he went down on one knee and grasped the Peredhel's hands. "My lord Elrond," he gasped in a strangled voice, touching his forehead to the hands much like Erestor had done earlier. "It is so good to see you!"

If Elrond was surprised, he did not show it. Instead a warm glow washed across his face, and he smiled. " _Mellon-nín_ ," he replied, gently tugging Haldir upwards until the Marchwarden was standing in front of him, looking him in the eyes. "It is very good to see you, too," he said sincerely. "Thank you for all you have done for us these past few days. I am in your debt, _Haldir o Lórien_." And then he surprised the faithful Marchwarden by enveloping him in a grateful embrace.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

While Elrond exchanged a few more quiet words with Haldir, the other five elves exchanged meaningful looks to work out how to proceed with Galadriel's impending entrance. In the end the twins, Glorfindel, and Erestor filed out of the room while Lord Celeborn lingered, ready to intervene, just in case.

Finally Elrond turned around to his father-in-law. "It is all right," was all he said, and all Celeborn needed to hear. He gave a slight nod and left the room, accompanied by Haldir, while Elrond bid Lady Galadriel enter with merely a gesture of his hand.

Closing the door behind her, he waited patiently for her to speak first.

It took a few moments until she mustered the courage to look her son-in-law in the eyes. "I have come to ask for your forgiveness," she eventually said.

Elrond slightly tilted his head. "For what, my lady?"

"For allowing my judgement to be clouded by my preconceptions. For assuming rather than searching for the truth. And in that, I did you great injustice. I am sorry." She lowered her gaze, and when no response was forthcoming, she made to leave again.

Elrond let her get almost to the door before he spoke. "I see no reason to forgive you, as I did not take any offence. All the same, I thank you, my lady."

Galadriel let out a sigh of relief and simply nodded. Before she could leave the room, however, Elrond closed the distance and stopped her with a hand to her arm. "One more thing. I have to ask: are you planning on taking Arwen to Lothlórien?"

The Lady of Light pursed her lips. "I will admit that I have been thinking about it, and that I have discussed this possibility with Arwen as well. I have been remiss in not talking to you first, and for that, I also need to ask your pardon. But I realise how unwise taking Arwen away would be in the present situation. So, provided that you are agreeable and barring any unforeseen circumstances, Lord Celeborn and I will linger here a while longer. There is no rush either way."

"That is well," the elf lord nodded. Then he gently closed his hands around Lady Galadriel's narrow shoulders. "I loved your daughter with all my heart," he said quietly. "It pains me deeply that it was not enough to heal her soul from the darkness which had taken hold of her."

Galadriel raised both hands and tenderly cupped his cheeks. "It was enough to give her the chance to find full healing in the Undying Lands. For that, I will be forever grateful. And one day, when our work here in Middle Earth is done, we will join her, and she will be waiting for us, whole and happy, with all her love for us restored to its previous purity ... and beyond."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Meanwhile Haldir found himself steered towards his room by Lord Celeborn. It was the room which the Marchwarden had been given upon his arrival at the Last Homely House four days ago, but hardly used. And was it really only five days ago that the Lady of Imladris had sailed? It felt much, much longer.

A sidelong glance at the ancient elf lord told Haldir that their thoughts were very much going in the same direction. Grief and relief, hope and disillusionment all swirled in Celeborn's eyes, though only visible to those who knew him well. Haldir put a hand on his lord's shoulder and stopped. "How fare you, my lord?" he asked without preamble. Centuries of service at the side of the Lord of the Golden Wood had awarded him this privilege.

Celeborn stared off into the distance for a long moment before he slightly shook his head and looked at Haldir with something akin to helplessness. "I do not know, _mellon-nín_ ," he answered at long last. "So much has happened these past five days that I find it hard to keep up."

Haldir studied him carefully, debating how to phrase what he wanted to say. "As you know, I am not terribly good with words," he started, eliciting a small amused flicker in the elf lord's eyes. "So when I asked you to relay my condolences to Lord Elrond, I unfortunately left out the most important part of what I meant to say."

Celeborn's expression softened. "I heard it all the same, dear friend," he replied quietly.

"Still, I think I need to say it, so you can be sure. My heart weeps at your great loss, my lord Celeborn. And whatever I can do to ease your burden, just say the word and I will."

For the second time that day, Haldir found himself enveloped in a heartfelt embrace. "You have already done much more than you will ever know, _mellon-nín._ There is nothing more that I could ask of you that you have not already freely given. I thank you."

Still somewhat unused to this open show of affection, Haldir returned the embrace. "May I ask you a favour, then, my lord?" he said when they eventually pulled apart.

"Anything, if it is within my power to grant it."

"Let us stay here for a while longer. I know not much of these matters, but I have eyes to see, and I think there will be more healing for all of you if you are together. If the love of friends and family can draw one back from the brink of fading, surely it can also ease the pain of a grieving father's and mother's heart."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

The way from the family dining room to Arwen's room was not particularly long, but by the time Elrond reached his daughter's door, he felt winded. He leant against the wall next to the door for a moment, annoyed at his weakness, though at the same time insanely proud of having made it this far on his own two feet. He had a faint suspicion that at least one of his family or friends was following him at a distance, just to be safe. This, however, was something he needed to do by himself.

When Arwen had not appeared for dinner, having asked her Grandmother to excuse her, all alarm bells had gone off in Elrond's head and heart. She knew of the improvement in his condition, for Galadriel had gone to her as soon as she had left Elrond in his study later in the morning. He did not suspect anything out of order, either, when Arwen had not come to see him during the day, because he had been instructed to rest, and willingly done so until an hour before dinner. Erestor had come then to help him wash and change and braid his hair, all the while catching him up on the goings-on in the Last Homely House. No word had been spoken about his daughter, and since the Chief Advisor had his eyes and ears everywhere, Elrond had not thought anything to be amiss.

Now, however, he was worried. As soon as he regained his breath, he knocked on the door.

"Come in," he heard from within, and entered.

Arwen was sitting on her bed, a picture of misery with her red-rimmed eyes, pale face, and slightly tangled hair. When she looked up and saw her father standing in the doorway, a fresh torrent of tears swept down her face. " _Ada_!" she cried, jumping up and hurrying over to him.

Elrond caught his daughter in his arms, pulling her close and letting her cry out some of her grief without saying a single word. When he felt the traitorous weakness return, he moved them both over to her bed and sat down with her.

"What troubles you, my child? Why have you not come to dinner?" he finally asked, concerned but without reproach.

"I am so ashamed, _ada_ ," Arwen admitted in a small voice. "I said all those horrible things yesterday, and then you almost died, and I ..."

"Oh child," Elrond sighed, pulling her close again so her head rested on his chest, right over his heart. "You have already asked my forgiveness in this matter, and I have given it to you. What happened then was neither your nor my doing. It just _happened_."

"But _what_ happened, _ada_?" Arwen insisted, sounding confused. "What has brought this on? I do not understand ... I am so glad you are no longer fading, but will it last? Or is it just temporary? Will you fully recover? Or will you remain damaged, like _nana_ , and still sail in the end?"

Her father closed his eyes against the barrage of questions that poured forth from Arwen's perplexed heart and mind. While thinking about how to respond to any of them, he just held her in his arms, slightly rocking from side to side, and stroking her long, dark hair in a soothing motion. For a very long time, both of them were silent.

Finally Elrond said: "I am afraid I have no good answers to your questions, Arwen. This is not something I have experienced before, so I cannot tell you what to expect. The only thing I can promise you at this point is that I will not sail ... at least not for a very, very long time, and certainly not as long as you need me."

Arwen tightened her arms around him. "I will always need you, _ada_ ," she whispered.


	10. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Chapter 9. ALMOST there. To everyone who is reading this story: thank you for sticking with it so far, even if I never "met" you.**_

 _ **To guest "Someone": thank you for your review on chapter 8. So good to hear that I made someone's day! Once more, I am not quite done yet.**_

 _ **To Oleanne: yeah, about that ... I have left another A/N at the end, because there is actually a point to why I wrote it exactly the way I did. I am sure you will see as soon as you've read this chapter. Anyway, thank you for reviewing every chapter so far. It is always enlightening to read your thoughts.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: none. I think by now you know what to brace for.**_

 **Chapter 9**

"He is getting worse again."

The Golden Warrior's head snapped up at the softly spoken words. He had just returned from his first patrol since Lady Celebrían's departure, and when he had left four days ago, Elrond had been almost restored to his full strength. "What?" he replied incredulously, the apple that he had been about to give Asfaloth slipping from his fingers and falling to the ground. "How?"

Erestor approached, picked up the apple and fed it to the white stallion. "He is not sleeping, and he is not eating properly." His face was drawn into a deep frown as he stroked Asfaloth's silky neck.

"Do you have any idea what has brought this on?" Glorfindel asked, his quiet voice urgent.

The Chief Advisor of Imladris shook his head. "Not precisely, but I think it started when Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel announced that they would return to Lothlórien by the end of the month. That was the day after you left."

Glorfindel sat down heavily on the nearest bale of hay, absently patting Asfaloth's nose that was nuzzling his hands for more treats. "What of Arwen?" he inquired after thinking for a minute.

"I think she is still deciding what to do. She seems torn." Erestor paused. "I do not think, however, that Arwen is the crucial factor in this equation."

His best friend cast him a pained smile. "You know I hate mathematics, _mellon-nín_."

Erestor raised his eyebrows. "Well, that certainly explains the glaring mistakes in your budget report," he remarked drily.

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "Erestor. Please. I have had very little rest the past three nights, and my mind is in no condition for a verbal game of chess with you. So please tell me this: have you actually asked Elrond what is wrong, or is all of this based on your power of observation?"

Sighing deeply, the Chief Advisor sat down on the hay bale next to his best friend. "I did not, but Lord Celeborn did this morning over breakfast. Elrond was very evasive, only admitting that he had not been sleeping well on and off, and that his appetite had somewhat suffered as a result. Then Lord Celeborn asked him whether he had been having nightmares, which he denied, and I believe him. What puzzles me is that he seemed so very embarrassed about the whole thing."

For a while, Glorfindel was silent, deep in thought. Then something seemed to occur to him. "On and off, he said?"

Erestor nodded. "Yes, but he did not specify."

Glorfindel's face brightened a little. "Tell me, _mellon-nín_ , what do I do when I come back after having been on patrol for weeks?"

"Take a bath?" Erestor quipped, receiving an impatient glare in return. He considered his best friend's habits for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "You sneak into my room and sleep on the floor next to my bed for a night or two." His usually impassive face took on a fond expression. "You once said it is because sleeping alone in your room is strange after spending every minute of every day and night with your fellow soldiers for weeks on end."

The Golden Warrior nodded. "Precisely. Only that Elrond would never sneak into anyone's room ..."

"... and no-one would sneak into his," Erestor finished his sentence, suddenly looking almost sheepish. "Oh dear. I never even realised that we just stopped spending the nights together in his quarters when he got better."

Glorfindel smiled and slapped Erestor's shoulder, making the Chief Advisor wince. "Cheer up, _mellon-nín_. I will take a bath, as you so kindly suggested, and then we will discuss the new floor plan."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Night fell once more over the Hidden Valley, and Elrond sat on his bed, miserably staring out of the window. He felt stupid. He was a battle-hardened warrior and had been one of the mightiest elf lords for more than an age. Surely he could get used to sleeping alone in a room?

The reasonable voice in his head told him that it was unreasonable to expect to be able to. He was a _twin_. He had _always_ shared a space with someone else, even before birth ... and he had continued to do so throughout his long life: as a soldier, as a husband, as a father, as a healer. It was so ingrained in every fibre of his being that his body did not know how to be alone, even if his mind could hold the upper hand for a while. Still, he had to admit that he had never slept well when completely alone in a room.

A knock on the door tore him out of his brooding. "Come," he called absently, rising from his bed with a sigh in order to see who needed his attention at this late hour.

He was glad to find his two best friends enter the room – so glad, in fact, that he remained completely oblivious to the fact that they had not entered through the front door that opened to the hallway. "Glorfindel, Erestor. It is good to see you. What can I do for you?" he asked with a smile that lit up his still somewhat haggard face.

"We've only come to say goodnight," Glorfindel replied, glancing at the open side door in his line of sight and inwardly counting the seconds until Elrond would pick up on the change in the room.

"Well, that, and because we thought you might want to meet your new neighbours," Erestor added.

This got the desired effect. "New neighbours?" Elrond repeated, frowning slightly when he saw the smug expression on his best friends' faces. The little "mischief alarm bell" in his head started ringing, the one that had become a permanent fixture around the time the twins had started to crawl. He focussed and swept the room with a second, more thorough glance.

Only now did he notice that the doors on both sides of the small antechamber to his bedroom were unlocked and open. This was odd, especially as he could have sworn that this morning the rooms they were leading into had been completely empty. Now he spied rugs on the floors and fire in the fireplaces. "What have you done?" he asked, more than a little baffled.

"We have moved our bedrooms to a more convenient location," Glorfindel replied. "Erestor kept confusing his study for his bedroom, so hopefully separating the two will teach him the difference."

"And Glorfindel kept confusing my bedroom for his, so hopefully putting another room in between will stop him from spending his nights on my bedside rug," the Chief Advisor added, putting some of his usual exasperation at the Balrog Slayer into his tone for good measure.

"You don't mind, do you?" Glorfindel asked, slipping on his most innocent face.

Elrond looked from one to the other and suddenly found himself blinking back tears. He pulled both friends into a fierce embrace and simply held on for a few long moments. "Thank you so much!" he whispered.

Not half an hour later he peacefully fell asleep to the sound of Erestor turning the pages of his book in regular intervals and Glorfindel snoring softly.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

Sleep might not have come so easily to Elrond, had he known about the late-night conversation that was taking place in another bedroom in the Last Homely House. Lord Celeborn sat on the side of his granddaughter's bed, holding her in his arms as she cried, and trying to find out why she did.

Earlier he had met with Haldir in the Great Hall of Fire to discuss details of their upcoming journey back to Lothlórien, and upon returning to his and Galadriel's quarters had stopped by Arwen's room to tell her goodnight. He had found her upset ... nay, distraught, and it had taken him until now to calm her down even just a little.

One thing, though, was painfully clear: she was scared, lost, and unable to make head nor tail of what she was feeling.

As Celeborn sat there, holding Arwen's trembling form and feeling her tears soak through the soft fabric of his robe, his heart hurt with the memory of all the times he had held her mother like that over the past year. And for all his knowledge and wisdom, the ancient elf lord still felt just as helpless.

So lost was Celeborn in his thoughts that he actually jumped a little when Arwen finally spoke. "I think I cannot stay in Imladris."

Her grandfather sighed. "Arwen ..." he began, but she continued as if she had not heard him.

"I do not even understand myself. I do not want to go, but I cannot stay. I am scared. It is so empty without _nana_."

Celeborn carefully stroked her long, dark hair. "What of your father and brothers? What of your friends here?"

Arwen shook her head. "I have not many friends left. Most of them withdrew after what happened to _nana_. They were afraid, I think, to say or do the wrong thing, so they just left me alone." She paused, wiping at the fresh tears that tumbled from her eyes. "I do not blame them, because it is the same I feel about _ada_. I love him dearly, and I know he loves me, but I cannot bear seeing him like that. And I cannot connect to him in the way Elrohir and Elladan can."

This was news to Celeborn. Arwen had always been special to Elrond, not only because she was the youngest of his children, or because she was his only daughter. While the twins shared their father's gift for healing, Arwen had inherited his deep empathy, and at least part of his gift of foresight. He was her hero, much as most fathers were to their daughters, but she was his _Undómiel,_ his Evenstar.

"Why do you think that is?" he asked gently, holding her away just a little so he could fully see her face.

Arwen shrugged. "It is like they share a secret bond because of what happened to _nana_. The twins found her and brought her home, and _ada_ healed her ... at least her body. They were the only ones to see the full extent of her wounds, and it is like this has bound them together in a way that I cannot share."

Celeborn marvelled at the depth of her insight, but his heart wept for the desolation that bled from her words. "They still love you and need you, _Undómiel_ ," he reminded her softly, cupping her still wet cheek in his large hand.

"I know that, and I love and need them, too!" she almost shouted in desperation. "Why, then, do I feel so alone?"

Her grandfather pulled her back into his arms and dropped a tender kiss to the crown of her head. "I am sorry, my child," he said in his most soothing voice, "but I am afraid I have no answers for you. I could tell you that this feeling will pass, or at least diminish, but that will not help you right now. I would ask you, though, to have patience with yourself and your family. These circumstances are new, and foreign, and painful for all of you. With time and love you will find your way back to each other, even if at this moment you feel like you never will."

Arwen nestled against him, resting her head on his strong shoulder. "May I not go with you and grandmother?" she asked in a small voice. "At least for a time?"

Celeborn's heart clenched. He dreaded to think what it would do to Arwen if he said no ... or to Elrond if he said yes.

So he simply pulled his granddaughter closer and said nothing.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

 _ **A/N 2: As reviewer Oleanne pointed out, Elrond's quick recovery in chapter 8 seems surprising. Aside from the fact that, well, this is a LOTR fic and Elrond is an elf (okay, half-elf, but still), there is actually a real-life point to this story:**_

 _ **In people with life-threatening conditions or injuries, the upswing from "on the brink of death" to "on the road to recovery" can sometimes be so dramatic to the observer that it seems almost miraculous. The harsh truth, however, is that this is mostly an error in perception. The "almost dead" tends to shock us so much that we sometimes overestimate the degree of restoration as soon as the person is mostly back to their usual self. The last bit between "almost recovered" and "fully recovered", if it can be achieved at all, may take the longest and be the hardest. In my experience, though, a brush with death – in whichever form – is nothing from which people ever fully recover.**_

 _ **The same, I have found, is true of grief.**_


	11. Epilogue

_**A/N: Well, this is it. "We have come to journey's end ..." *cough* Thank you for reading, all of you. I realise this is an enormous fandom, with over 53,000 stories, so I consider myself fortunate to have got any reviews, favourites, and follows at all for my very first story here. As this is the end, though, I would really like to hear what you think.**_

 _ **Special thanks go to Oleanne, who faithfully reviewed all chapters. It was so good to have such an appreciative reader!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see chapter 1.**_

 _ **Warnings: Tissue alert. I certainly needed some, and I knew what I was going to write!**_

 **Epilogue**

They talked. She explained what was going on inside of her as well as she could, and he listened patiently, albeit with an aching heart. He told her that he loved her and of course wanted her with him, but her healing was more important to him. Then they cried together over the great loss they had suffered, and over their own helplessness in this suffocating fog of hurt and confusion.

In the end they simply held each other, communicating through their bond what words could never express.

As she left his quarters to go and pack her things, a shard of foresight pierced his heart: that one day she would once more go away, never to return, never to be reunited with him again.

The ice-cold pain brought him to his knees, draining his still meagre reserves so thoroughly that, when they found him an hour later, they feared the worst. Only after his sons instilled some of their own strength in him was he able to relay what had happened. He could barely keep them from going after her to try and dissuade her from her plans.

His best friends helped him to bed where he stayed for the rest of the day. They never left his side, unable to help him but determined to share his sorrow.

There would be many such days in the months and years to come.

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

The morning of their departure dawned cold and misty, nothing like the morning they had departed for the Grey Havens two months ago. 'Small mercies,' Erestor thought gloomily as he walked down the long stairway to the main courtyard. This day was much too reminiscent of _that other day_ as it was. And it had started with breakfast ...

 _Breakfast had been a sad affair, with both Arwen and Elrond excusing themselves after only a few minutes: Arwen for fear of losing control over her stomach, Elrond for fear of losing control over his emotions. Then Galadriel had gone after Arwen and Celeborn after Elrond, for both seemed to be in need of some assistance._

 _This had left the twins sitting at the table with Erestor and Glorfindel. Elrond's sons and the Golden Warrior would accompany the small travelling party to the border of Imladris and then go on a week-long patrol, while some guards would escort them all the way to Lothlórien. There had been some debate about the wisdom of the twins leaving at the same time as their sister, but in the end Elrond had encouraged them to go. He thought it might do them good after having been cooped up in the Valley for two months. Now, seeing how much their father struggled with Arwen's departure, they were wavering again._

" _Are we doing the wrong thing?" Elladan asked, breaking the long silence that had followed his grandparents' exit. "Shouldn't we stay a little longer and be there for_ ada _, at least until he recovers a little more?"_

 _Elrohir shrugged. "He said we should go ... maybe he needs some time to himself?"_

" _We could give him that without leaving for a whole week," his brother objected. "At least we would be close at hand in case he needs us."_

 _Erestor and Glorfindel exchanged a long, meaningful look. They, too, had discussed the matter more than once. The twins needed to blow off some steam, somewhere away from watchful eyes and worried hearts. Glorfindel would make sure they did not get themselves killed in the process, and help them work through their own grief and anger. Likewise, Elrond needed time and space to regain his inner balance, away from their constant fear of losing him after all. It did not matter that they were adults; they would always stir his fatherly instinct to protect them, even from himself. And Erestor, the one person most in tune with the elf lord outside his own family, was there to protect him._

" _It is just a week," the Chief Advisor said calmly. "And your father did say you should go. So go. Keep Glorfindel out of mischief."_

 _Elladan and Elrohir smiled slightly at the gentle ribbing, but the moment passed quickly. "You were there three days ago when we found him collapsed in his room," Elladan said, his voice filled with quiet urgency. "Can you look us in the eyes and promise no harm will come to him while we are gone?"_

 _Erestor looked at them steadily as he answered. "I cannot, and I will not. But know this: Your father is strong. He will never go down without a fight. And I will protect him with everything I have. You have my word."_

... Now, walking down the stairway half a step behind Elrond, Erestor was almost ready to change his mind. Twice already did the Peredhel have to reach out for the banister, so unsteady were his legs under him. Erestor had to forcibly restrain himself from stepping forward and supporting his friend, but the look Elrond had given him told him that the other elf lord needed to make it through this on his own.

So they walked, slowly, until they reached the courtyard where everyone was waiting for them, watching. Erestor stayed at the foot of the stairway while Elrond went over to the small group to bid them good-bye one by one.

The guards simply extended their arms from their chests in the familiar Elven greeting and respectfully inclined their heads to their lord, who returned their farewell and wished them a safe and speedy journey. Then they mounted their horses and rode forward towards the bridge, giving the extended family some last moments of privacy.

Next came Haldir. Elrond clasped arms with him, thanking him once more for all he had done, and in turn gracefully accepting the Marchwarden's vow to guard Arwen with his life. Then the faithful warrior joined the guard.

Glorfindel pulled his old friend into a firm embrace. " _If by my life or death I can protect them, I will_ ," he whispered into Elrond's ear, unwittingly anticipating the words that would be spoken by another beloved member of the Peredhil household more than five hundred years later.

"I'd rather it was not your death, _gwador_ ," Elrond replied, his voice tight with emotion.

For once, the Balrog Slayer made no joke about being twice-born, and just squeezed his friend tighter for a second before releasing him. "See you next week," he promised with a warm smile, gestured a wordless farewell to Erestor, and followed Haldir.

The twins needed no words, either, to say good-bye to their father. They simply held him, infusing him with as much strength as they could safely spare. Then Elrond placed his hands on their heads, whispering a blessing and sending them off with a kiss on their foreheads.

Lady Galadriel embraced him, tenderly brushing her mind against his to once more assure him, and herself, that everything was well between them. "I will do what I can to help Arwen heal," she promised quietly.

Elrond smiled. "I know, and I thank you. But please," he added, gently cupping her cheek in his hand, "take care that you find healing, too. Your loss is no less great than hers."

Galadriel covered his hand with hers and, turning her head slightly, kissed his palm. Then she reached out to Arwen, pulling the young _elleth_ towards her father. "Take your time," she said quietly and went to mount her horse.

But Arwen was too upset to take her time, and Elrond was wise enough not to prolong her anguish. Holding her in his arms, he blessed her, as he had done with his sons, and kissed her forehead. "I love you, my child. Be at peace and heal."

Arwen nodded, choking out words of love between her sobs, and with one last kiss to her father's cheek fled from him and the only home she knew.

Through the haze of the searing pain her abrupt leaving had caused, a comforting touch made itself known: strong arms pulling him in and holding him together until he regained command of his senses. "One day she will comprehend the measure of love you have shown her in letting her go." Celeborn's soft, clear voice was as a soothing balm, and slowly the pain receded. Elrond lifted his head and locked eyes with his beloved father-in-law. He wanted to say something, _anything_ , to express how grateful he was and how deeply he loved the father of his heart, but words failed him. Unable to speak through his tears, he simply kissed his father-in-law's hands in farewell, and then Celeborn spoke once more: "This is not the end, but merely another part of the journey. Know that you are not journeying alone. Whenever you need me, call, and I will come."

 ***LOTR*LOTR*LOTR***

When Erestor came to look after Elrond an hour later, he found his friend standing by his bedroom window, staring at one of the many little waterfalls around the Hidden Valley.

"Elrond?" the Chief Advisor asked quietly, trying not to startle the elf lord as he approached.

"This is where she told me," the Peredhel said in a far-off voice when Erestor placed a light hand between his shoulder blades, a familiar gesture of comfort and compassion between the old friends. "Over there, under this waterfall, Celebrían told me that we were going to have another child."

Erestor smiled and had the decency to blush slightly at being told such an intimate detail of his friend's life. "Indeed?" he replied. "I only remember Arwen almost being born down by the lake."

That drew a chuckle out of Elrond. "Oh, I remember that, too. That was the only time I was able to tell Celebrían 'I told you so'."

"And I remember the broken nose you got for your troubles," Erestor deadpanned, and they both laughed at the memory.

"Those were good times." Elrond's voice was quiet and sad, but it had lost much of its heaviness.

Erestor moved his hand to come to rest on his friend's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "And there will be good times again. I promise."

Elrond turned to him and smiled, a genuine smile that lit up the bottomless depths of his eyes. "I believe you."

 _ ***Methed***_


End file.
